Jail Bait
by A Darker Heaven
Summary: House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Jail Bait (1/?)  
**Authors:** **adarkerheaven**  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
**Word Count: **3,906  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

*************************************************************************

Chase was an excellent actor. It's how he got into this position in the first place. His intelligence and ability to read people was why he made such an excellent under cover agent.

However, Chase had trouble blending in with the prison environment. He was too pretty, and even as an excellently trained fighter, defending himself became exhausting. It was by far the riskiest and most challenging case of his young career, and one that he knew could make or break him. So early on in the game, Chase came up with a plan. In exchange for being Mendelson's bitch, he received the protection he needed to finish up the job.

He was with Mendelson and his gang as they stood in the food line. Chase kept his head down as his food was dished out sloppily and picked up his tray to follow Mendelson to their usual table. Chase sat down beside him silently and obediently.

"Bring me the new doctor on the block," Mendelson ordered one of his men in a low but stern voice, and Chase looked up to see who the criminal was talking about.

House stirred the slop around on his plate in boredom and lifted his gaze to the one man that stood out in the cafeteria room. The boy was young, too young to have fucked up his entire life already. His blonde hair was well groomed, his body lean and slim, his skin smooth, freckled, and flawless. He was not damaged, tattooed, and scarred like the other men. Like his... _owner_. He looked like he should be on the cover of Men's Health, not eating stale jello in oversized orange jumpsuit next to Mendelson. Yes, this boy was far too pretty to be in prison. It was no wonder that the jerk kept his pet on such a short leash. House wondered what he did to end up here.

In his boredom and frustration, House found himself instantly and insatiably curious about him. It was in that moment that he realized he may just yet find a way to amuse himself in this hell hole.

"Why don't you have Pretty Boy go talk to him?" Sullivan, the biggest man in the crew, asked. He was tired of the boy not pulling his own weight. Sullivan didn't think sleeping with the boss should get him out of doing any dirty work. When it looked like Mendelson was going to get angry, Sullivan was quick to add, "The doctor has been watching him. 'Might be able to sweet talk him without us having to use any muscle."

Mendelson seemed to consider this to himself for a moment before he spoke again. "Chase, go over and deliver a message for me," he began. Chase tensed, but listened anyway.

It was a few moments later that Chase got up from the table, the chair squeaking on the tile floor underneath him. _So much for being discreet_, he thought to himself as all eyes suddenly focused on him. Including the doctor's.

House watched Chase carefully as he sipped his orange juice and slowly rubbed his aching leg under the table. He did not expect the younger man to walk past all the other tables and sit down right across from him. When he did, House pretended to barely notice, waiting for him to talk first.

"Hello," was all Chase said.

House glanced up at him for only a second before he grinned back down at his food. "Something you want, Wombat?" he asked playfully. Chase's clear but heavily accented voice only sparked his curiosity further.

Chase rolled his eyes. He knew when he started the job that he should have stuck to an American accent, but he had never been good at it. "Mendelson… sends a message. He found out that you were on Vicodin for you leg and he wants his share."

House flat out laughed at that, so loud that he knew the other men in the room could hear. "And he sent his little pet? Sorry, Kid, but that's not how things are going to work," he told him seriously. "Now scram."

Chase sighed and leaned back to study the other inmate. "Listen, you are new here… but you will learn pretty quickly that you don't mess with Mendelson unless you want to end up hurt," he told him. It was more of a warning than a threat, and House knew it.

"I'm not trying to mess with him. In fact, I'm trying to mind my own business and eat my lunch," House pointed out with a careless shrug. "What are you in for?" he asked bluntly.

Chase had never really noticed House before. He had other more crucial things to deal with, after all. But now, being face to face with him, he began to take a curious interest. He was so unlike all the others here. "Possession... you?" he asked.

House smiled. "Possession? You're lying," he smiled simply. He knew a spoiled little rich boy when he saw one.

Chase raised an eyebrow. He was surprised to be called out by someone who didn't even know him. All the other dumb brutes were so easy to lie to. "Oh, really? What would you guess I was in here for, then?"

House leaned back in his chair and stared at Chase with one of his smug smirks. He hoped the gaze was intense enough to make the younger man squirm in his seat. "Well, you look far too healthy to be in here for prostitution," he smiled. "It must be something that you really want to keep secret. Con artist? Or are you not really here for anything at all?"

Chase's poker face gave nothing away as he gave House a charming smile. He had underestimated the doctor, but he knew to be careful now. "Why would I be in prison if I didn't break the law?" he asked innocently.

"I don't know. You tell me," House teased. The careful lack of expression in Chase's face only confirmed his suspicion.

"Haven't you figured it out yet? Everyone in here is innocent," Chase smirked before he stood up from the table. "You better pay Mendelson or he'll have someone beat the hell out of you," he tried to warn him again, but he knew that his words wouldn't sink in any more the second time.

"I'm not innocent," House smiled, ignoring what Chase was trying to say to him. "I crashed my car through my ex-girlfriend's living room, who is also my boss. And I did it knowing what I was doing."

That made Chase stop and smile. "So you're the psycho ex-boyfriend type. I wouldn't have assumed."

"Oh, really? What would you have assumed?" he asked, curious as to what the boy thought of him.

Chase shifted back into his seat and crossed his arms over his chest as he gave House a once over. "You're smart, very smart, and it makes you cocky. You're a misanthrope, you're cynical, and you're a narcissist. Probably due to dealing with an abusive parent and the fact that growing up smarter than everyone else made you feel like an outsider. You probably feel like you are unable to form personal relationships because you always feel like they will leave you. Like everyone else has," Chase told him easily.

House raised his brows like he was unconvinced and unimpressed but still surprised. "You're also very intelligent. And come from a wealthy family. Your mother was most likely an alcoholic and your wealthy father was probably absent. You also have a horrible case of only child syndrome and you are constantly telling yourself you are not as good as you really are," he diagnosed him just as easily.

Chase smirked, but did not acknowledge that it was the truth. "You're very good." he admitted.

"No, just a good diagnostician. What are you, really? A doctor?" he asked nosily.

Chase played along. "I've had medical training," he said vaguely. He had been recruited right out of medical school for his current job.

"Interesting. Still doesn't answer why you are here," House insisted, knowing that there was more to Chase's story. "And why you let that moron over there own you," he added at a dangerous volume.

"I think of it as more of a business arrangement," Chase whispered. He knew that he should have walked away by now, but he was enjoying having a conversation with someone smart enough to keep up with him for once.

"Oh? And how is it all business?" the doctor asked unashamedly, because things were now just getting interesting. A business arrangement would insinuate that Chase was getting something as well.

"He gets his dick sucked and I get protection."

House smirked at that. He could tell when someone was lying. "Come on. It's so much more than that, isn't it?"

"You must be extremely bored in here to show an interest in me. I think you need to find another puzzle to solve, Dr. House," Chase said, and only then was there a slight hint of a threat in his tone.

"What makes you think I have an interest in you? I'm more interested in getting out of here," he lied.

"Keep it that way," Chase told him before he moved to stand up again. "And don't be an idiot. Pay Mendelson."

House smirked as the other man got up to walk away from him. But he wasn't quite done yet. "You're not _really _his bitch, are you?" he asked in a way that insinuated it was not really a question. He could tell by the way he walked, the lack of bruises on his body, and the overall healthy, untouched vision of his body.

Chase's smile attempted to give nothing away as he leaned down close to him. "I told you, it's a mutual beneficial arrangement," he whispered into House's ear before giving his earlobe a slight teasing nip while the older man remained perfectly still.

"Chase!" They both heard Mendelson's voice interrupt from across the room. "Get your ass back over here."

House realized then how extremely lonely he had to be from the strange and unexpected way his body lit up from the intimacy with a rush of adrenaline and suppressed shiver up his spine. He smirked devilishly as he reached out to give a gentle slap to Chase's perfect, round ass with a daring look towards Mendelson.

Chase was as equally startled by the slap, not having been touched in such a long time. Secretly clenching his teeth, he forced himself to hold back from turning around and slapping House as he continued over to where Mendelson and his gang were still seated. Mendelson immediately grabbed his arm and pulled him down, just as Chase expected him to. The man had to keep up pretenses up, after all.

"What was that about?" Mendelson demanded in a low voice that only Chase could hear. The others watching probably assumed the other man was threatening his bitch.

"Nothing," Chase answered innocently, wishing it were the truth. He hoped House paid Mendelson. He also hoped House stopped watching him so closely, for both their sakes.

House mused as he watched the false display of ownership from across the room. Mendelson was clearly was trying to compensate for something. Though he may intimidate others with his tough outer shell, House knew that inside the gang leader was a pathetic small-minded man that couldn't get it up. And he was not going to win this game.

House grabbed his cane and rose up from his seat, expertly hiding his pain as he did so, and walked out of the room.

Three days passed, and House hadn't paid Mendelson. The gang leader sent three of his biggest men to corner him in the showers.

Chase just happened to be finishing up his own shower when the men came in. Everyone else took the entrance of the gang as their cue to get out of there, but for some reason, Chase ducked behind a wall and stayed.

House knew it was time the moment he heard the eerie silence take over the room. Fastening a towel around his waist, he did not even need to turn around to know who it was and why they were there. With nothing left to use, he wasn't scared. He may be a cripple, but he wasn't going down without a fight. When he heard one of the other men's voices speaking threateningly behind him, he immediately turned around to punch him hard in the face. Everything after that was a blur.

Peeking over a corner, Chase was impressed by the fight the older man put up against the three men that each had twenty pounds on him. He watched passively as one of the guys hit House so hard that he fell bloody to the ground. _Maybe this was just a regular smack down,_ he thought. _Maybe he wouldn't have to step in and blow his cover he had worked so hard to achieve…_

Chase sighed as one of Mendelson's men pulled a knife. It was small enough to be concealed from guards, but large enough to kill him. Damn it all to hell, he could no catch a break! Chase cursed under his breath before he fastened his own towel tightly around his waist and moved fast to take the unsuspecting men out. He knocked them all unconscious before any of them would know who their attacker was. If they came to, they would only remember being jumped by someone else. A guard, perhaps.

After he smashed the third man's head against a nearby sink, he turned to House, hoping to find him knocked out as well. But his eyes, though swollen, were open and his bloody lip was curved upwards in amusement. He had seen everything.

House, in mind-numbing pain, looked up at the man that had saved him within an inch of his life. He had been stabbed, shot, and beat to shit before. This wasn't new to him. But this time, it was almost as though did not _want_ to fight back. He almost wished it could end, right here and now. He glared up at the blonde man. He was incredibly attractive, standing there unharmed with men broken at his feet and blood trailing down the drain with water from the shower. With his smooth chest exposed and his hair wet and clinging to his face, he looked like an angel of death.

"You have a hell of an arm, kid," House observed suspiciously despite also coughing blood.

"More like just lucky," Chase lied unconvincingly as he reached to turn the shower off. "Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No, I _am_ a doctor," House began before he fell to coughing again. He was not able to feel his leg and he knew that it was probably a good thing. "Where did you learn to fight like that? You're far too intelligent for the Military...

"I watch a lot of television," Chase told him, not expecting House to buy it. "I wasn't here by the way. You didn't see me and I certainly did not help you."

House snickered at that. "Sure. The cripple took all these guys out himself," he teased, if only to distract himself from the pain. "You're just going to leave me here?"

Chase sighed and offered a hand to help House stand. "Anything broken?"

"No, nothing is broken, I'm fine," the older man insisted, using Chase as support only long enough for him to get his hand back on his cane. "Are they going to know it was you?"

"They will know someone helped you, but I made sure they didn't know who it was," Chase told him. "It's really important that you don't tell anyone."

House took that as a challenge. "Tell anyone what? That you're someone you say you're not?" he smirked, wiping the blood from his lips. "Listen, if you tell me your secrets, I won't tell a soul. Scout's honor."

"Or how about you keep your mouth shut since I just saved your ass… and because I could easily end you if I wanted to," Chase threatened, crossing his arms over his chest. He was well too aware of only the towels covering their nudity. He never thought that he would ever yearn for the comfort of his prison clothes.

House laughed despite his pain. "End me? That's funny. You're not a killer. At least, not like they are." He roughly shoved one of the unconscious men with his cane.

To Chase, the man was infuriating. The audacity that he had, assuming that he already knew everything about Chase. "I have killed before. What makes you an exception?" he insisted, stepping bravely into the taller man's personal space.

"I don't believe you. And if you are so tough, then you should be able to make Mendelson _your _bitch," House told him. He could not help but stare at Chase as he stood with the low riding towel loose on his slender waist. He tried not to focus on the perfection of his chest, the tan color of his skin, his hair that looked darker now that it was wet, or his velvet, accented voice.

"Why are you so fixated over me bending over for Mendelson?" Chase demanded angrily.

House wiped away more blood and smiled. "You don't do any bending over, stop this game of yours," he told him knowingly, but he did not elaborate. "Now let's get out of here before they wake up. We should get the guards in here to clean up this mess and make it look like it was them who intervened."

Chase rolled his eyes and did not move. "You need to pay Mendelson. He's going to be pissed that his ambush didn't work. Pay him off and keep him happy," he warned, ignoring everything else House might have said. He turned around to grab the doctor's clothes and hand them to him.

House mockingly pretended to consider it with a thoughtful look. "No, I don't think so," he decided sarcastically.

"Your pills are not worth your life," Chase urged.

House paused for a moment during which he seemed to study the other man. "If I hand over my pills, will you tell me why you are really here?" he propositioned with a crafty rise of his brows.

"No," Chase answered immediately. "You know what? Why should I care if you're stupid enough to get yourself killed! You obviously have a death wish… your oversized ego is going to get you into a lot more trouble than this!"

House smirked. "Because you _do_ care," he told him bluntly. "You've made that very clear. Why else would you save me when you didn't need to? When you 'don't care'? You risked your own ass to save mine."

"I only cared because there was no one else around," Chase argued.

"Yeah, I'm not falling for that. You like me," House teased. "I could be the only man in this entire prison that could protect you and not take advantage of you at the same time. And whether you are aware of it or not, that draws you to me."

Chase wasn't used to other people being able to read him the same way he could read other people. He wasn't used to having his emotions plucked out of him and exposed before he even knew of them himself. "Doesn't it get exhausting for you? Always trying to figure everyone out?" he tried to take the focus off of himself.

"Nope. It passes the time. Keeps me from becoming a blubbering idiot like the other men who frequent here," House smiled before he took a step closer to Chase. He had never come onto another man before, but games were games, and such insignificant details didn't seem to matter much anymore.

Chase was visibly flustered with the sudden lack of personal space. It was one thing if he himself initiated something physical, and quite another to be on the receiving end. "You need a hobby," he told him. He stepped back away from House, but stopped when his back touched the wall.

"Oh, yeah? Suggest one," House propositioned, taking another step closer into Chase's personal space.

"Knitting?" Chase asked sarcastically. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not doing anything. I didn't realize a whore would have such a large personal bubble," he snickered, but did not move any closer.

Chase's hands clenched into fists at the name, but his expression didn't change.

"Oh, I forgot. You're not really a whore, since you don't actually sleep with the guy," House pointed out yet another piece of information he had gathered. Chase walked far too well to be raped on a regular basis. There was also nothing intimate about their interactions with one another… "You can do better than this, you know. You knocked these morons out right away. You can take care of yourself."

"Things are more complicated than that," Chase admitted.

"I think you are over complicating things. Or do you like being owned?" House asked. Yes, this boy must have daddy issues worse than his own.

That scared Chase. House's ability to see the truth and speak it openly was dangerous. "Are you trying to piss me off? Because it's starting to work," he barked, shoving the other man away from him.

"No. Just trying to figure you out," House answered honestly. He wondered why the idiot suddenly meant so much to him. He wondered why he was so interested. He supposed it was curiosity and maybe a little bit of something else.

"Pick someone else to figure out," Chase growled before he grabbed his own clothes and began to storm out.

"No one else interests me as you do."

That stopped Chase dead in his tracks. A second later, he turned back to look at House. "It's not safe for you to be interested in me."

"Oh, really? Why not?"

Chase ignored his question as he reached to grab House by his shoulders to achieve his full focus. "You need to take your situation more seriously. I will not be here the next time Mendelson sends someone after you."

House was pleased by the sudden close proximity of the younger man. He took another step closer, curious as to what Chase would do. "What's your name?" he asked. He knew it, of course, but he had never asked.

"I go by Chase," he answered after a moment's hesitation. "And you are Dr. House, the world famous diagnostician."

House smiled. "At your service… Robert."

It was then that Chase realized that he might actually like this man, and prison was not the ideal place to be picking men up. His eyes flickered down to House's mouth while his lips formed his first name. "Why ask when you already knew my name?"

"I don't know," House shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to know if you would tell me the truth."

"Everything is a game to you isn't it?"

House shrugged again, ignoring the pain that was now finally rising in his leg. He smirked down at the unconscious men by his feet and slipped out a bottle of Vicodin. He tossed a few pills down his throat before he dropped the bottle onto the man's chest, ignoring Chase's question that he already knew the answer to.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Jail Bait (2/?)  
**Authors:** A Darker Heaven  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
**Word Count: **5,261  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

It was a few days later when Frankie, House's chess buddy, stopped by his cell. "So I heard a rumor that three of Mendelson's guys ganged up on you and all three were sent to the hospital. They say it was the guards that beat 'em up, but I don't think anyone has any idea. Anyone but you."

House smirked at his friend but did not give anything away. He didn't want Chase to get blamed and he didn't want his own jail time prolonged because of suspicions. He tried to mask his unbearable pain, but he knew it scarred his face. He could not hide what consumed him. With his pain came burning anger towards Mendelson. With it also came the desire to distract himself any way he could. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he shrugged.

Frankie looked at House as if he were assessing him. Frankie was one of the old timers. He had been in jail since he was eighteen for killing his father and he hadn't been on the outside since. Jail was all he knew, and he knew how the prison was run better than anyone else. House never doubted his intelligence and even respected him. He was one of the few inmates that were smart enough to keep up a conversation with him. He used to think he was the only one before he met Chase.

Frankie looked around to make no one was listening before he slid further into House's cell. "That boy of Mendelson's, the blonde one that's too pretty for his own good... I think you should be careful around him. Something's not right with him," he tried to warn him in a hushed whisper. There would always be men like Mendelson around the prison, but Frankie knew there was something strange about Chase. "I know you're curious about him… but you should just let it go."

House was instantly intrigued and wondered if Frankie knew more than he was telling him. "Thanks, but aren't you the least bit curious yourself?" House challenged. "It's your turn, by the way," he added, nodding to the chess board by his bedside.

Frankie looked down at the board and moved a pawn. He knew that there was no way he could beat House, but he liked trying anyway. "The kid is dangerous. When he first got here, everyone who tried to claim him ended up in the hospital wing… and then he suddenly hooked up with Mendelson without putting up any fight at all. The kid is not a criminal, he's worse. Someone has trained him to be the way he is and I'm pretty sure anyone who starts to take notice will end up dead. That is why I haven't said anything until now. But I don't want you to be next."

House smirked to himself and made his next move which won him the game. All of this that Frankie was telling him was interesting, but he knew not all of it was true. There was more to the story. And House wasn't afraid to discover what Frankie would rather not know. "I'm not afraid of Blondie. In fact, I have a feeling he's got my back," he told him confidently.

"And why would he... oh, is it because you're a doctor?" When House gave him a puzzled glare, Frankie explained, "He seems to know his way around the infirmary...or at least he likes flirting with the staff there. He must have a thing for doctors."

That only made House more curious. "I guess I have an advantage, then," was all he said with a shrug and playful smile. He did not even want to share the truth with an ally like Frankie. He did not want to tell him the truth. He wanted to find out the boy's secret and make it his own.

"Well, I don't think Mendelson will fight too hard if you decide to take the boy. Just don't get killed over a nice piece of ass. You will be out of here in a few months. Don't ruin it," Frankie told him.

House watched Frankie walk away and knew what he said to be true. He had never been attracted to men before and he told himself that he never would. He refused to believe that his life had reached that new level of pathetic where he began seeing mysterious blonde men with thick accents as desirable as women. No, it was not that at all, he told himself.

But it didn't mean that there wasn't a mystery here. It didn't mean that there wasn't a case to be solved. It didn't mean that he could not try to get close to Chase, even if it was all just a game. But it would be a game that would not only distract him from the searing pain in his leg, but also get back at the man responsible for it.

Now that he was alone in his cell, House rubbed his leg and grimaced at a particularly vicious cramp. Soon, the withdrawal symptoms would begin. He stared down at the chess board, at his victorious move across the board, and knew what he needed to do.

Chase tried to concentrate on his game of solitaire, but it was nearly impossible when House and Mendelson were apparently having some sort of meeting where they sat across the cafeteria. He glanced up from his cards nervously to stare at the two men for what seemed like the hundredth time, and he couldn't help thinking it was like watching a timer on a bomb. What they both had to discuss, Chase had no idea, but at least Mendelson didn't seem to be in the killing mood, even with the damage from Chase's attack still fresh on his face and arms.

Finally, it appeared that House and Mendelson had finished their discussion. Chase barely realized this before Sullivan, one of Mendelson's muscle men, strode over to where Chase was sitting with a toothy, evil grin that reminded him of a shark. "Well, pretty boy, it looks like you just got sold for twenty Vicodin," he sneered as he grabbed Chase's arm and lifted him forcibly from his seat to drag him over to where House and Mendelson were still seated.

"You're gonna to be bunking with Dr. House from now on," Mendelson informed him without even looking him in the eyes. Chase knew he couldn't blow his cover, but he was so angry that his hands clenched into fists under the table even as his face remained expressionless.

"Whatever you want," Chase said with fake indifference, though all he wanted was to punch him as hard as he could, and this time, let him know it was him.

Chase's expertly controlled expression fooled Mendelson, but his anger was obvious to House. He smirked at the blonde's expertly controlled expression and stood up, a little shakily, and grabbed his cane. He shot Chase a look as he walked away, knowing that the boy now had to follow.

Chase knew that a million different possible outcomes could come of what just happened, and he was silent during their walk back to House's cell as he desperately tried to strategize his way out of this. In no great hurry, House limped into his cell and Chase followed him tentatively, looking around at the items that the doctor had accumulated during his stay in prison. Mostly, his cell was littered with creased medical journals, small bouncy balls, a few pairs of sneakers, and a chess set. He wasn't surprised that there were no letters or photos of any kind.

Chase looked around at anything but House himself, not trusting himself to speak.

House did not look either as he moved a pawn on the chess board with the blunt end of his cane. "Don't worry, nothing will change, I won't fuck you, either," he told him, knowing that Mendelson never touched him. "I guess I owed you a favor. You know, for going all karate kid on that pervert," he shrugged, though it wasn't the whole truth. Despite his calm demeanor, he knew that Chase was very angry at him for doing this, and he was curious as to _why_.

Chase gritted his teeth. "Oh, you're _going_ to have to fuck me now. You paid for me, after all," he reminded him, quietly so any others couldn't hear. He suddenly turned around and shut the curtains so no one else could see inside, ignoring the loud wolf whistles from the other inmates.

House turned around and looked at Chase for the first time this evening and raised an amused eyebrow at the closed curtain. "I'm not going to fuck you," he told him plainly. "Sorry to disappoint," he added with a smirk.

Chase huffed angrily. "Everyone will know if you don't, and then I'll be up for grabs for anyone. You think you are doing me a favor, but you don't realize that you just made me a bigger target," he explained, but all he was really doing was testing the waters. He was challenging House to see what he was really made of.

"I don't know, Mendelson was pretty eager to give you away. I don't think you're as important as you think you are. Why do you need to be with him? Is it because of whatever it is you're hiding?" House asked as he sat down in his chair and gave him a knowing look. "And what do you mean, _they'll know_? You didn't sleep with Mendelson, and no one knew. Well, no one besides me. What was it, by the way? Erectile dysfunction? Did he have a three inch Johnson? Did he-"

"Stop!" Chase interrupted before he could continue. He never knew the real reason why Mendelson never got sexual with him when they were alone together, and he never cared to ask, though he suspected the man was embarrassed about something. He never saw him naked. "You have no proof that I have anything to hide," Chase lowered his voice, though he had a feeling that meant nothing to someone like House. That's when Chase knew it was time to get desperate. Suddenly, he plopped himself into the older man's lap and wrapped his arms around his neck. "I'm nothing more than a prison bitch," he whispered into his ear before he gave his earlobe a suggestive nip of his teeth.

House tried to remain emotionless when he felt Chase straddle him and apply slight pressure in all the right places, but he could not stop his body from tensing under the shock of this sudden intimacy. "No. I don't have proof. At least, not yet," he told him, and there was a hint of a promise in his voice. "Other sex-crazed men might believe you look enough like a girl to fuck, but I am not into dudes."

Chase knew then that House would never stop trying to figure him out. But that didn't mean he couldn't distract him. "You've noticed me. I've felt you watching me, and not just because you're trying to solve a mystery," his voice was thick and husky as he began to slowly grind down against House's crotch. "You may not be into other men, but you want me just the same."

With his strong hands, House immediately stopped Chase's movements on his hips. "Maybe it's you who wants me," he contradicted.

Chase's eyes narrowed as he glared at House. "Why, because I didn't let you get killed the other day?" he asked angrily.

"Maybe because you are rutting against me like you're starved for it," House pointed out the obvious with a smirk.

"Just because I'm starved for it doesn't mean I want it from you," Chase growled. He wasn't giving up that easily, but he didn't do well with rejection.

"Well, get off me then. You forget that I'm a cripple, and you're hurting my leg," House accused, though it wasn't true. He wanted Chase off of him before the automatic response his body was having became more obvious.

Chase sucked a spot on House neck. "Make me," he said tauntingly.

House felt a strange, electrifying shiver rake up his spine, something he hadn't felt since his last time in bed with Cuddy, and he knew he had to stop this. He grabbed Chase by his shoulders, and with all his strength, he pushed him off of his lap to land on the floor. The boy was asking for it.

Chase glared up at him and stood up with a lot more grace than one sprawled on the floor should have had. "Whatever game you're playing, Dr. House, I'm not. I'm just trying to survive in here and you are making it very difficult."

"Actually, I'm making it easy. You're used goods now, and I'm doing you a favor. Anyone else would have raped you into tomorrow by now. Why don't you just tell me what your secret is?" the older man asked with a knowing smile.

Chase rolled his eyes, dusting off his orange clothes. "This is prison. There are no secrets here. You've been in here so long that it's making you crazy."

House had to laugh at that sloppy response. He was breaking him slowly, and they both knew it. "Actually, I haven't been here that long. And I am getting out soon, as I'm sure you know. Why haven't you told me how long you're in for?" he raised an eyebrow, his hand unconsciously squeezing his aching leg.

"I got ten years in this hell hole," Chase lied easily as he watched House carefully.

"What did you do?"

"They say I killed a man, but they never found the body," Chase answered with his best dangerous, murderous grin.

House's smile widened. "Oh yeah? You're lying," he told him plainly. "You're not innocent, sure, but you don't even belong here, either."

Chase's smile did not waver. "You would be surprised of what I'm capable of."

House liked that. He looked at him and saw him as a child playing dress up in his oversized jumpsuit and closely guarded secrets.

"You'll have to show me sometime."

The night time alarm went off indicating that it was time for lights out, and all the inmates began to scatter back to their cells. In a few moments the lights would be out and the cell doors closed tight.

"Well, there are two separate bunks. Plenty of room for both of us," House teased, because this was still a game, and he was still enjoying it.

Chase shook his head. "I have to sleep with you. The guards will know if I don't and they will tell the others that you don't know how to bed your bitch," he said sarcastically.

"Oh please, this place isn't a gossip magazine. It's enough that you are with me, I don't need to fuck you to prove you're mine," House argued. The truth was, it had been a long time that he shared a bed, and the idea made him nervous "You are just desperate to get laid, that's all. Sexaholic, huh?" he provoked.

Chase rolled his eyes and hopped up onto the top bunk. He knew the times that the guards did their scheduled rounds and he knew he could just sneak in House's bed when the other man was asleep. He laid down and turned his back to him just before the lights blinked out and immersed them in darkness.

"I'll take that as a yes," House teased, but he knew that Chase was not addicted to sex. He may love attention from other men, but he was no addict. "You sneak into my bed, and my cane is going up your ass. And not in a good way."

"You're an asshole." Chase mumbled, and he tensed up when he heard a guard walk by. He had learned quickly that he needed to be just as cautious of the guards in this prison as the prisoners.

House smiled to himself. "You are a very ungrateful little brat."

"Shut up," Chase hissed at him. "I should have let those guys beat the shit out of you."

House rolled his eyes before he closed them, succumbing to sleep quickly.

It was around midnight when Chase heard the heavy footfalls of one of the guards he hated the most. He wondered what would happen if he found out that he wasn't sleeping in House's bed tonight. He knew it would get back to him if the guard decided to be nosy and check in on them.

Chase quickly stripped off his shirt and silently slipped into House's bunk, careful not to wake his bunk mate. He realized it was perfect timing when he heard the jingle of keys and the door to their cell cracked open a bit. Chase closed his eyes and controlled his breathing as the footfalls came closer. He held back a shiver as he felt a hand brush over his naked back before the guard turned around and left.

House had woken up the moment he heard the jail cell close, though it did not register what the sound was. Instead of opening his eyes and seeing what he knew he would see, he smirked to himself in the dark, feeling Chase's warm body next to his. "I told you not to get in my bed," he said, not bothering to whisper and hoping that it spooked his companion. His voice was the only indication that he was awake and his tone was teasing.

Chase jumped but he did not move away. Instead, he allowed his hands to travel up House's chest seductively. "I just couldn't stand being away from you," he said sarcastically. "Did you really trade me with Mendelson for twenty Vicodin?"

House froze when he felt that hand down his clothed chest, but allowed it to happen passively. "Does that bother you?" he asked in a way that told Chase he didn't really care how it affected him. "How did Mendelson get his small greasy hands on you, anyway?"

"I let him have me," Chase told him the truth. "It was easier to let him have me and protect me than to have to worry about always having to watch my back."

The intimacy of this conversation, given the closeness of their bodies and the low volume of their voices was strange to House. "I don't believe you," he told him, rubbing his leg painfully. "I think you are fully aware that you can take care of yourself. I think there is still something more that you are keeping from me. And I'm going to find out what it is."

"Really? And how are you going to do that?" Chase challenged, his hand still resting on House's chest. For some reason, it wasn't hard to seduce House. Being this close was strangely comfortable for him. He _liked_ touching him. He liked the deep sound of his American voice, the smell of his skin, and the way he could still feel his smile in the dark.

"Any way that I can," he told him, and left it at that. "It would be easier, of course, if you just told me. I don't think you did anything to get in here."

"Hmm," Chase hummed as his hands snuck their way down House's chest until they stopped at the hem of House's pants. "Maybe you will just have to fuck it out of me."

House inhaled sharply and held his breath as Chase's brave hand wandered. He stopped it before it could go any further down. "I told you. Not into dudes. Even if I am stuck here for a few more weeks and you are the closest thing to female here. Besides, it's not what you want."

No one had ever said no to Chase before like House had, and it was a strange feeling. He frowned, the first honest reaction he had experienced since he walked through the gates to the prison. "You don't know what I want."

House wondered why he was allowing all of this. Maybe it was because he had finally reached rock bottom and he had nothing left to lose. Maybe it was because he really didn't mind having the younger man so close to him in the dark. He pushed all thoughts of the latter out of his mind. "I'm not even sure _you _know what you want," he told him. "So stop trying to seduce me. It's not gonna work. Not unless you grow tits and change your gender."

"You really traded your pills for me just so you could figure me out? Are you really that crazy?" Chase asked as he sat up a little to look down at House, his eyes adjusted to the darkness. "No one has ever not wanted to fuck me before," he admitted.

House had to laugh at that. His chest vibrated from it, and Chase's body moved with it. Chase's thick, sunny hair was tousled from how he had been laying and he looked so impossibly young, though House knew he had to be at least twenty-two or three. "Who knows, maybe I also did it out of my own good will. No one deserves to be touched by that slimy bastard," he shrugged, though they both knew it wasn't any good will that brought Chase to him.

Chase rolled his eyes but lay back down. "I'm sleeping down here tonight," he demanded. "We have to keep up pretenses even if you don't give a damn."

House sighed but said nothing as he closed his own eyes and tried to fall asleep even while sharing the small bed with the other man. But sleep didn't come easily. He hadn't slept in the same bed with anyone since Cuddy, and even then, they were never this physically close.

It was even stranger when he realized he didn't miss her at all.

It was two hours later when he woke again. The pain in his leg was burning hot and unbearable, and his hands gripped the throbbing thigh tightly as he tried to calm his own breathing and not wake the man beside him. He didn't want Chase to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

Chase had always been a light sleeper, even before his training, so at House's first movement, he was awake. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, his accent thick with drowsiness and almost incoherent to House, who startled in surprise.

House wanted to kick himself. Had Chase never really been asleep at all? "Nothing. Shut up and go back to sleep," he practically barked, the pain showing through in his raspy voice.

Chase raised an eyebrow at House's harsh response, but it didn't scare him off. "I guess you are regretting trading your pills for me, huh?"

House gritted his teeth at the thought. "Yes. If I thought he'd trade back, I'd throw you into his cell right now," he growled through the pain.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked genuinely. It was hard to see such a strong minded man weakened completely by such a thing as pain.

House growled in frustration. "Not unless you know how to give the world's best blowjob," he was barely able to mutter sarcastically, wishing Chase would just shut up, go to sleep, and forget that he ever saw him like this. He wished that he would just go back to his bunk and mind his own fucking business.

But Chase did none of those things. Instead, he realized that _that_… was actually one thing he could do and could do well. Never minding the fact that House had obviously been sarcastic, he made himself not think too much about it as he pulled down House's pants and swallowed down his half-hard cock, not giving the other man a chance to stop him.

House didn't even have time to process what was happening until he felt Chase's warm, wet mouth over his cock, and in one solid second, the pain was forgotten. At least, he was so overwhelmed by the sudden, unexpected pleasure that it stretched the pain miles away. His cock instantly responded, desperate for his mouth, for his hands, as it hardened between his lips. His hand reached down to stop Chase, to pull him away, but instead, it buried in his soft, blonde hair and clenched it hard.

Chase moaned around House's cock, getting off on the dull pain of the other man pulling on his hair. Other inmates that had woken to hear the sounds began whistling and shouting out obscenities and encouragement that Chase chose to ignore.

House didn't hear them at all. All he heard was the soft deep moan vibrating through Chase's throat and through his cock and the soft suckling of his mouth on him. His own hand tightened and pulled even harder without him even realizing that he was doing it. Now fully hard, he panted heavily and resisted the urge to just pound into his mouth.

Chase relaxed his throat expertly and took in even more of House's length as he bobbed his head up and down. His hand squeezed around the base of his cock as the other teased his balls. House gasped loudly when he felt the head of his cock touch the back of his throat, and he could not hold back then from bucking once wildly into his mouth, feeling those strange electric shocks run up his spine and feeling himself embarrassingly close to completion.

Chase anticipated this and pulled back just as House thrust forward a second time. He sucked at the wet head of his cock before he pulled away completely. He rested his head on House's good thigh as he tried to gather his own control and used his hand to jack him off. He had never gotten this hard while giving a blow job before. He didn't understand why this was so different.

House jerked himself into Chase's wet, tight hand until when he closed his eyes he saw stars exploding on the dark curtains of his eyelids. It was just a moment later that he cried out softly and shot his come up in hard spurts that landed on Chase's fist and his own chest. He almost passed out from the blinding pleasure, knowing this must all be some sort of pathetic wet dream.

Chase was panting almost as hard as House was as he felt his hot come stain his skin. He milked House all the way through his orgasm before he finally retracted his sticky hand. "Feel better?" he asked, not moving his head from where it rested on House's thigh.

House said nothing as he tugged Chase's lips up to his and kissed him hard, diving into his sweet, bruised mouth and tasting himself on his tongue. Chase moaned into his mouth, feeling his own body boneless in the other man's arms. He could taste in the kiss that House finally felt like he had nothing else to lose. He couldn't remember the last time he had been kissed like this. He couldn't remember the last time he felt his knees, or whole body for that matter, weak from just another's mouth on his. It had been so long.

House realized then that kissing a man was very different than kissing a woman. House did not have to be gentle. He could crush him, _ruin him_, if he wanted to. He could be a little rough without worrying about breaking him. And he didn't find himself regretting a single thing as Chase kissed him back in a way that made him almost believe he was doing it because he _wanted_ to. One of House's hands tangled again in Chase's hair, fascinated and addicted to the feeling of it between his fingers. His other hand clenched Chase's thigh and squeezed before both hands gripped his hips and forced him to straddle his hips.

In his blissed-out state, Chase allowed himself to be manhandled, his head brushing against the top bunk. When House's fingers finally found him through the thin fabric of his pants, Chase gasped and automatically tried to buck into his hand like a man who hadn't been touched in years.

House knew it had been a long time from the way Chase shuttered on top of him. He wondered how long it had been and thrilled possessively at the thought of no one touching him like this but him. He didn't think about what he was doing as his hand slowly slid down under the waistband and grasped his uncircumcised erection in his fist. He watched his expression carefully in the dark through his own lust glazed eyes as he stroked him experimentally.

Chase's hands gripped House's hair as he pulled back just enough from the kiss so that they were breathing the same heavy, hot air. Chase moaned when the older man began to stroke him, and bit his own lip bloody in an effort to stifle the noises that wanted to burst out of him. He didn't wanting the others to hear.

House decided that he didn't much care if the entire jail heard Chase's sweet cries of pleasure, as long as he heard them with his own ears. He reached his tongue out to swipe a deep red bead of blood from Chase's lips as he stroked him harder, memorizing every inch of his body, every flash of emotion on his face and in his glossy, blue eyes.

"_Fuck_," Chase whimpered against House's lips as he suddenly came with just a few more hard strokes of his hand.

Just watching Chase come undone and feeling his body tense and release was enough to make House hard again. He continued to stroke him slowly, feeling the tremors rake through the younger man's body until he oozed his boneless body onto his side beside him. House smirked and moved Chase's pants up to cover his softening cock and listened to his still heavy breathing.

When Chase finally caught his breath, he felt like he had to say something. "I never come that fast," he whispered almost apologetically.

House chuckled softly at that. "It must have been a long time. You must have been starved for it to let a grumpy man twice your age touch you," he whispered.

"It has been a long time, but I don't think that was the reason," he admitted, reaching up to trace House's face with his fingers. "This could get dangerous, you know."

Chase did not elaborate, and for once, House didn't ask him to. "And how could this possibly get dangerous?"

Chase sighed and just snuggled closer to House, enjoying the feeling of being close to someone he actually wanted to be close to. He kept his mouth shut because he had already said too much.

House did not pry further. Chase could mean a lot of things by that. House knew the true danger of this situation, however. "Go to sleep," he told him, much gentler this time. The pain still forgotten, he closed his eyes and drifted off to the sounds of Chase's constant heartbeat and slow breathing.

Chase watched House slip back into sleep, but he did not follow him. Instead, he began plotting ways to get House out of jail and away from him as soon as possible. After all, the safest place for him was far away from Chase.

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Jail Bait (3/?)  
**Authors:** A Darker Heaven  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
** Word Count: **8,109  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

The next day, House limped uninvited over to where Chase was sitting quiet and alone at a cafeteria table. With a tray in both hands and his cane hooked on his arm, the older man sat down across from the other inmate and eyed him for just a second before he dug into his potatoes. "Not eating? Afraid you'll get fat?" he observed mockingly when Chase did not even raise his gaze to look at him.

Chase just rolled his eyes as he moved his food around on his plate with a plastic spoon. "Who could eat this crap?" he muttered. He tried not to show it, but sitting with House was making him nervous. They had not yet talked about what happened the night before and Chase was hoping that House wouldn't bring it up. Especially here and now when they were surrounded by large criminals who all looked like they were just waiting for an opportunity.

House began to pick at his own plate. He knew that part of the punishment of prison was the food. "That accent," he began, probing shamelessly. Chase, if that even was his real name, would not have been able to continue faking an accent like that when he lost control last night. The memory made a strange warm sensation spread through House's body. He remembered the way his accent thickened as it deepened and the way it hitched when House touched him. He remembered the red swell of his mouth and the laziness of his blue-green eyes. "It means you were brought up well somewhere in Australia. Sydney?"

"Are you sure about that?" Chase asked in a flawless Russian accent and raised an eyebrow at House's little game. He reminded himself that none of this will matter in a few days anyway. House would be out of prison and the doctor would find other puzzles to solve. He would forget about him. He _had_ to forget. "You should pick a new game, Dr. House," he added in a perfect French accent.

House smiled. He tried not to think of all the other pretty accents that could flow from those lips. He tried not to think of how much a turn on it was. "It doesn't matter. I know what you are. Are you conning me, too?" he asked bluntly, watching Chase's reaction. "And French is way sexier, by the way."

Nothing changed in Chase's expression. "If I was conning you, I guarantee you would not suspect it. It is none of your business who I am or what I do," he answered confidently, but his smile faded and he softened his tone to add timidly, "Last night wasn't a con."

"I know it wasn't," House said immediately, and Chase looked up to give him a surprised expression. "No one could fake that," he teased, hoping to embarrass him.

Chase looked away from the intensity of House's eyes. "I could've faked it if I wanted to."

"I don't doubt that you could. But you didn't," House insisted, though he didn't know what exactly he was trying to prove from this argument.

At a loss for words, Chase opened his mouth only to close it again. Not knowing what House expected him to say, he lashed out in frustration. "For someone who is supposedly straight, you enjoyed last night," he accused.

House shrugged as if he couldn't care less. In a way, he guessed he didn't. "I'm flexible. I don't pretend to be one thing or the other," he answered honestly, though he wished he could believe it more himself.

"So it was just sex, then? Because you haven't been with a woman in a while?" Chase questioned him. He wondered if House had pictured him last night as a woman. A specific woman. His ex-girlfriend, maybe?

House rolled his eyes. "You definitely have some poor social skills, kid," he sighed.

That shut Chase up because House was right. He usually had to fake his 'social skills' and he hadn't had to do that on this mission. He was out of practice. Chase pushed his plate away and glared at the other man. "You're one to talk about social skills," he mumbled defensively.

"I just can't stand morons," House corrected bluntly. He was sure he could charm his way out of a lot of situations if he wanted to, but most of the time, he was just real with himself and others. And sometimes, _just sometimes,_ he enjoyed hurting people.

"Prison must be hell for you, then," Chase smiled down at the table. "I know you're a doctor, but what is your specialty?"

"Why do you care?" House asked through a forced mouthful of food, but he realized how it must have sounded and cleared his throat to tell him the truth. "Diagnostician. I solve cases other idiot doctors can't."

"I was just curious... I went to med school but I never got to start my residency," Chase found himself easily admitting. In a way, it was an enormous relief to be himself for once even if the moment was going to be short lived. He knew that if you spend your life pretending to be other people, it was easy to forget who you are.

"Hmm," was all House said as though he was not hanging on Chase's every word. "And why didn't you finish?"

"I got a better offer," Chase answered without really answering at all. "I don't think I would have made a very good physician, anyway."

"And what was your better offer?" House insisted. He would get this information out of him if it was the last thing he did.

Chase tensed visibly and looked away from House again. He wanted to slip, and if House kept pulling these threads, soon he would be bare. "Maybe this is the job," he admitted what he knew the other man already knew.

"Hmm," House mused with a sly smile. "Undercover agent, then. Either that or you're Spiderman, but I haven't seen you sprout any webs. And I have a feeling you don't always play for the good guys."

Chase smiled at that. He knew what he had just admitted to was dangerous, but it was far too liberating not to have to lie. Suddenly, he didn't feel so alone in these concrete walls. He shrugged but did not say anything else, and before House could probe further, a guard strutted over and Chase averted his eyes quickly.

"Dr. House? Your parole hearing has been moved to today. Congratulations," the guard told him sarcastically as he handed House the envelope and walked away.

House was speechless as he stared down the envelope in his lap. After a few moments, he was able to put the pieces together. "Hmm," he mused. "I bet I know someone who is responsible for this." He raised his eyes to give Chase an accusing look.

"The prison is over crowded. It makes sense to release some of the non-violent criminals," Chase shrugged without admitting to anything.

House glared, not falling for his claim to innocence for a minute. "I drove my car into my girlfriend's house. I wouldn't say I am a non-violent criminal. Besides, if anyone should leave, it should be the little boy who did nothing at all."

"I'm not a little boy, and you shouldn't think of me as one," Chase warned.

"You have something to do with this," House insisted angrily as he waved the envelope in front of his face. "Admit it."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," Chase told him casually. "Stop waving that thing in front of my face. You will draw unwanted attention."

"Oh, I don't think anything could possibly draw more attention to us," House snickered. He rubbed his leg when it began to cramp under the pressure of stress. It wasn't supposed to happen this way. Chase was getting rid of him. "And just admit it because I already know. It is because I was asking too many questions? Do I know too much?" he demanded, not bothering to keep his volume down this time.

"Shut up," Chase hissed. "Are you trying to get me killed? And why would I be responsible for this? What do you think will happen to me when you are set free?"

"I don't know. But I'm sure you already have it all worked out. And we both know you are capable of defending yourself," House pointed out. "I don't really care, anyway. I've figured you out. I don't need you any more. It's about time I've left this shithole, anyway."

Chase's jaw clenching was the only outward sign of his anger. He hadn't expected this to hurt. He found himself wanting to reach out for House, to rub away the pain in his leg that he felt responsible for and feel his firm, reassuring lips on his again. "You never needed me to begin with," he told him instead.

With that, Chase stood, grabbed his tray, and left.

House came back to his cell a few hours later, knowing Chase would be there. "I hope you're happy," he scorned.

Chase looked up from the book he had been reading. Charles Dickens was still his favorite and he had been lucky enough to find an old paper back in the library. "To see you? Of course, love." Chase smirked sarcastically.

House wanted to punch him square in his pretty little face. Or fuck him against the wall. Either one would have been fine. "I guess you're happy I'm leaving. Aren't you afraid I'll just out you to the world, Secret Agent Chase?" he asked loudly in a crude tone.

"Really, now, you've been in prison for months now. Who do you think will believe you after all you've suffered in this place?" Chase smiled confidently to hide how worried he really was. He stood up to stretch luxuriously and face the other man. He was ready to quiet him if he had to.

"Oh, I think they'd believe me over a snarky little slut like you," House growled, stepping forward to invade Chase's personal space with his taller frame. "You're afraid of something. And it's not just loosing your job," he observed.

"I'm afraid of nothing. I was trained that way… unlike you, who must just like getting the fear beat into him," Chase threatened as he placed a hand on House's chest to keep him from stepping any closer.

"Oh, so I guess _you're_ going to beat the fear out of me? You're not as smart as I thought you were," House shot back at him, taking another step closer despite Chase's firm palm on his chest. He dropped his cane to the floor to be forgotten. "You're trying to get rid of me," he accused finally.

"I'm trying to protect you, you idiot!" Chase finally snapped. He surprised himself with the outburst more than he knew it surprised House. An expert at composure, Chase was not used to losing control.

"From who?!" House demanded as he grabbed Chase by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall. "From them? Or from yourself?!"

"Both!" Chase admitted as he allowed himself to be shoved despite his instinct to fight back.

House could not let him win. The air between them was tense as if they were both waiting for the other to make another move, and House realized that he had to do something. Anything. So he did the most natural thing in the world.

He leaned in to kiss him madly.

House shoved Chase farther against the wall, but this time, with the force of his own body. Using all his strength, he grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, dominating him completely with his body and lips as his mouth claimed him.

Chase was surprised. He realized then that he had been expecting House to actually hit him. In shock, Chase relaxed against him for a split second before he realized what he was doing and forcibly pushed House away. He couldn't allow this to happen again. House had already brought out things in Chase he hadn't felt before and couldn't afford to feel again.

"Don't touch me," Chase snarled.

"Oh, I think I've won the right to touch you anytime, anywhere," House growled, fighting against him easily. He knew that Chase possessed far more strength than he was using. If he wanted to stop him, he would. And they both knew that he wouldn't.

"Don't push it, or I will break your nose and you can go back to your real life looking like you got the shit beaten out of you," Chase threatened, but his voice sounded shattered.

"You won't," House told him knowingly, still holding him firmly against the wall. Cripple or not, House always had impressive arm strength, and he knew it. "I know too much, but it's so much more than that. You like me, you want me, so you need me gone."

"You don't know anything about me," Chase hissed, but this time, he was the one to lean forward and capture the older man's lips.

House kissed back like he wasn't surprised when Chase leaned forward and proved his point. Chase's lips were soft, but his kiss was hard, and their tongues battled hungrily. "You're right. But I know some things... I know enough things," House spoke low against his lips between the heated, messy kisses.

Chase said nothing to this and when they both stopped to gasp for air, he changed the subject. "You leave in the morning. Are you going to keep me pinned to the wall all night or can we find somewhere more comfortable?" Chase asked as he bit the other man's lip.

House pushed him harder against the wall just to remind him again who he belonged to, at least for tonight, before he let go and shoved him onto the bottom bunk to their left. They had only a few hours. He had to make it count. And there was still much more to say. He watched as Chase's body bounced under the hard mattress, his hair disheveled as it framed his boyish face.

Chase usually was the one to take charge in bed and it was strange to let House take the lead, so he grabbed the doctor and pulled him down onto the bed and flipped them so he was straddling House's hips. "Here we are again," he teased before he leaned down to kiss House harshly, fighting for control.

The pain in House's leg was now only a distant nightmare, and in this moment, he felt strong. He felt like he could let go. "What, bored already?" he raised a brow when he ended the kiss, his voice still low and dangerous. He was still angry.

Not willing to give into this power game so quickly, House grabbed the younger man by his boney hips and shoved him underneath him face down on the cot. He leaned over to press his groin to Chase's round ass as it was presented to him. They both had too much clothes on, and in a second, he was going to tear it all right off of them.

Chase seemed to freeze immediately in this position. It was enough for House to stop. "You are not fucking me," Chase said firmly.

House's breath ghosted against his ear as he spoke. "Oh, so we're just playing leap frog? Why are you suddenly a prude when you were throwing yourself at me like a bitch in heat?" he pointed out crudely.

"I just wanted to see what you were going to do…" Chase lied. "I would never let you." He attempted to push the other man off him, but House was stronger than he looked, and in this position, Chase did not have the upper hand. "Get off."

House smirked, enjoying the obvious fact that Chase really did not want to throw him off. He took playing hard to get to a brand new level, and House was intrigued by the challenge. With a soft smack to Chase's backside, the doctor sat up and finally allowed him freedom. He wanted to see what he would do with it. "As you wish, Princess," he teased.

Chase flipped himself over immediately and eyed House warily for a moment before saying, "You're an ass."

"You're one to talk," House challenged, still leaning over Chase and waiting for his next move. His chest heaved under the pressure of his heavy breathing, his brilliant blue eyes hazed with lust.

Chase responded only by reaching out to pull House to him in a kiss. House braced himself for another violent collision, but was surprised when the kiss was instead intimate and tender. House lowered his body on top of his, his hand sliding shakily up his clothed thigh.

Chase liked this slow pace better. His hand tugged at the hem of House's shirt to indicate what he wanted as he spread his legs farther apart when he felt his gentle hand down his leg.

House's warm chuckle vibrated through both their bodies as Chase spread himself underneath him and finally stopped fighting. House sat up to strip himself of his shirt and toss it carelessly to the floor. Now half naked, he ran his thumb over Chase's full bottom lip and watched through half-lidded eyes as he pressed that digit into the younger man's mouth for him to suck.

Chase licked his lips nervously, still feeling unsure about this, but he remembered then that he most likely would never see the other man again. He might regret it if he pushed House away tonight. So recklessly, he opened his mouth and sucked him thoroughly.

House liked the sudden and unexpected slower pace, but it only drove his need further. He pulled his hand away and replaced his thumb with his lips, kissing him deeply as his hand sought the obvious bulge in Chase's pants and squeezed him roughly. The moment he felt Chase's body respond with an urgent thrust, House emitted a dangerously low growl and broke his lips away from his to practically tear off the other man's clothes until he was completely exposed underneath him. He gawked shamelessly down at him, tracing the lines of his body with his eyes.

"No chest hair... figures," House teased with a snide smirk.

"Shut up... don't act like you don't like it," Chase muttered as he ran his fingers through House's short chest hair.

"Mmm, and don't act like you aren't jealous," House smirked, his own erection tenting his pants obviously in between them, but he ignored it as his hand slid down Chase's smooth, muscled chest to take his cock in his hand. His eyes remained fixated on his expression.

"Maybe just a little," Chase admitted, because it was hard for him to lie when that hand was on his cock. "You can't pretend I'm your girlfriend when you do that," he panted.

"Who says I want you to be my girlfriend?" House challenged, palming his balls firmly. "Maybe I'm sick of girlfriends," he shrugged childishly, realizing that that might actually be true. It's what got him here in the first place, after all.

Chase pulled him into another kiss as he continued to thrust into House's hand. "You keep that up and this show will be over before it starts," he warned before he yanked down House's boxers and gripping his ass to pull him closer.

House gasped at the sudden sweet, delicious friction of their groins against one another. He wondered what it would be like to be inside of him. The thought alone made his head spin. "Maybe I plan to make you come more than once tonight," he whispered huskily into his ear, thrusting against Chase's cock and in between his spread legs, but it was not enough. He knew it may never be enough.

"God, I hope so. I haven't had any good orgasms lately," Chase smirked devilishly as he wrapped his legs around House's waist.

House raised his eyebrows at that. "Oh, really? So last night wasn't a good orgasm?" he challenged, thrusting against him harder.

"I came way too quickly."

House decided that Chase talked way too much during sex. Instead, he wanted to hear him beg, moan, and cry. "What do you want?" he whispered, because he truly didn't know.

"I want your mouth on me," Chase admitted, but his body went tense when he wondered if he went too far.

"Mmmm," House mused, trying not to let on that the thought made him extremely nervous. If he was anyone else, anyone but the beautiful, flushed, naked man underneath him, he would never have dreamed of it. But for some reason, Chase hit a sensitive, weak part of House that he never allowed anyone else into. He found himself unable to deny him anything. With only a slight smirk as a warning, the older man dropped his mouth to Chase's weeping cock and licked up his shaft experimentally.

Chase's hips thrust closer to the hint of the wet heat of House's mouth. He groaned when he realized it was just a tease. "House, please," he begged shamelessly. One hand reached to grip House's hair, the other clenched the sheets.

"Mmmm, please what?" House snickered as he slowly stroked Chase and watched him squirm deliciously.

"Damn you," Chase cursed through clenched teeth. "Your mouth… please put your mouth on me."

House mused at how easy it was to reduce the younger man to shameless begging. He could tell that no one had done this for him in a long time. "Since you asked so sweetly," he whispered snidely before he lowered his head to wrap his mouth around his cock.

He had never dreamed of doing this before in his life, but somehow, here and now, it was not strange at all. Chase tasted both masculine and sweet at the same time and was deliriously heavy on his tongue. And House knew he would do anything to hear those desperate sounds coming from his mouth.

Chase forced his hips to still, knowing that this was probably the first time the older man has done this. "_Fuck!_" he moaned. He reached down to grab one of House's hands and sucked a finger into his own mouth. When it was wet enough, he pulled it away. "Put it in me," he instructed, even as he struggled to breath.

At first, House was too distracted to know what he meant. But when he realized what he was insinuating, he sat up and immediately pressed the wet finger against his tight entrance, not yet pushing inside. He circled him there, just teasing the surface.

"You just like torturing me, don't you?" Chase panted as he tried to push down on the digit.

"Yes," House admitted, staring intensely at Chase's expression as his finger continued to slide up and down the cleft of his ass, lingering on his entrance with just the slightest bit of pressure. When Chase eventually let out a frustrated growl, House decided to stop teasing and thrust two fingers deep inside of him. They slipped in easily, but Chase was impossibly tight and House was instantly dizzy from it.

House did not give the younger man time to adjust before he began to thrust hard. "_Fuck!_" Chase shouted too loudly. When he thought he heard the other neighboring inmates hooting, he secured a hand over his mouth to stifle more cries that threatened to erupt.

House was quick to shove that hand away and silence him instead with a kiss that seemed to consume them both as his fingers fucked him harder. After he broke the kiss to breathe, He lowered his lips to Chase's neck to suck a mark there. If he never saw him again, he wanted some part of himself to linger on Chase's body.

As House's fingers expertly rubbed his prostate, Chase felt the tidal wave rising too fast yet again, and a moment later, his desperate cries of release echoed in House's ear. House watched his expression carefully as he tensed around him and came undone, but his fingers did not stop. He continued to slowly rub that spot inside of him until the younger man was squirming and twitching underneath him.

"_Too much_," he whimpered.

House chuckled as he finally withdrew his fingers and watched Chase attempt to catch his breath. His own cock was still rock hard and leaking at the tip, so his own hand began to stroke himself to the image of Chase broken underneath him and the thick, hot smell of sex between them.

Chase came to a decision while he watched. "Inside me," he told the other man. "You can fuck me."

House stopped stroking himself to linger on those words and let them sink in. "I thought you didn't want it. I thought you were too good for it," he challenged.

"I _am_ too good for it, but I'm letting you do it anyway," Chase said with a little smirk as he took House's cock into his own hand. "Do you have anything to ease the way?"

"No," House answered simply. "You can take it," he added a moment later with a smirk of his own.

Chase rolled his eyes. "Yeah I can... spit in your hand and use that."

House did not break eye contact as he spit in his palm and shoved Chase's hand away to lube his own cock with it. He spat three times before he decided there was enough, and impatiently, he ran the head of his cock up and down Chase's stretched hole before he pushed the head of himself inside.

Chase breathed through the pain as House's length breeched him. He forced his body to relax, and to distract himself from the shocking pain, he kissed the older man hard. House could feel him clenching down, but the unbelievable tightness was enough for him to want to forget about everything and sink into him deeper.

But Chase's body resisted. House could feel the pain radiating off of him. "We don't have to," he whispered against his lips.

"It's okay," Chase tried to reassure him. "Just go slow... it's been a while."

"How long?" House asked curiously, if only to distract himself from slamming into Chase and taking him no matter how much his body protested. He grunted as he inched further into him but stopped again to give him a chance to adjust.

"About a year," Chase answered truthfully.

House pushed forward just a bit more when he felt Chase begin to relax. God, he felt so good already. "Well, I doubt you've ever been with anyone as huge as me," he joked.

"No, I haven't," Chase admitted seriously, sucking in a harsh breath. "Fuck... let me turn around," he demanded. Maybe it would be easier to adjust to House's girth in that position.

House tried not to get even more turned on by the idea of Chase on his knees for him. He pulled out to allow Chase to shakily arch into position. "You know, if you weren't such a tight ass..." House teased gently, but his voice was oddly affectionate.

Chase laughed softly. "You think you are so funny," he said, pushing back against House. "You are just used to loose women."

Before House could thrust back into him, he delivered Chase's perfect, round ass a slap that echoed through the cell in retaliation for that remark. He smirked as he watched the flesh blushed underneath him. "And you are used to tiny men who don't know how to make you come."

"You make me come like that again and then you can gloat," Chase barked back. He was glad he wasn't facing House now. His backside wasn't the only thing burning red.

House exhaled with the force it took to hold himself back from just thrusting inside of him. "Oh really? I can make you come like that any fucking time I want," he told him what he knew to be true against the shell of his ear.

Chase panted as House began to push back into him and he forced himself to relax. He intertwined his fingers with House's to help him concentrate. "Then prove it."

House chuckled as he continued to sink deeper into his impossible tightness. "Maybe later. Right now, I want to make you last. That is, of course, if you can," he teased, his mouth still very close to his ear. His hand snaked underneath Chase to slide up his thigh and grasp his cock. He groped and stroked, willing Chase to open up to him.

Chase moaned and tried to thrust into House's hand and back onto his cock at the same time. No longer able to make himself form sentence, he could feel the older man's triumphant smirk against the nape of his neck.

House grunted when Chase began to move more urgently. Taking it as permission, he thrust himself forward until he was finally balls deep inside of him. He felt a sharp explosion of pleasure course through his body, and he stilled, giving Chase time to recover as his own eyes rolled into the back of his head.

"You're mine, you know," House growled into his ear as he bent down over him again.

Chase laughed breathlessly. His eyes were clenched shut but his body was open. "For tonight, yes, I am all yours."

"Mmmm," House moaned before he began to move in short, sharp thrusts, his hands now possessive and burning hot on Chase's hips.

Chase bit down on a pillow and tried to push back against him harder. "Don't tease me," he pleaded, his voice muffled.

Soon, the room echoed with the sound of their bodies roughly colliding. House felt sweat drip down his brow as he fucked him hard and deep, feeling his body tighter than any woman around him. "_Fuck_," he exhaled as he lost himself in the overwhelming pleasure.

"_Right there... don't stop_," Chase panted as House's cock just teased at his overly sensitive prostrate.

House angled himself to target that sweet spot until his cock brushed against it with each violent thrust, and to hold himself back from moaning too loudly, he leaned down to bite the side of Chase's neck under his messy blonde hair.

Chase felt himself coming closer to the edge again the faster House thrust into him. "_Close_," was all the warning he was able to give. He felt his body start to tighten up around his cock and knew his orgasm was rising.

House resisted the urge then to pound into Chase until he shuttered and came. This time, he wanted it to last just a while longer. He abruptly stopped, and before Chase could complain, he manhandled his lithe body to lie on his back underneath him. He spread his legs wide and slid his cock up and down his sensitive entrance.

He wanted to watch again as he lost it.

"_I didn't tell you that you could come yet, baby_."

Chase glared in frustration up at the other man, but his body was pliant beneath him and his hips twitched to bare down on House's cock teasing his interest. "You are an ass," he cursed, his voice husky as his hands reached to smooth up and down House's chest.

House chastised him with another sharp slap to his backside and a devilish smile. "Shut up," he growled as he slid back inside of Chase's tightness with a grunt.

Chase could not hide his blush this time when House smacked him. "Stop doing that!" he cried.

House shut him up with a deep, demanding kiss as he began to pound into him again, reaching his prostate effortlessly. His hands were sure to leave bruises on his thighs as he heard the cheering from the other inmates surrounding them. He tuned them out, only hearing Chase's embarrassingly high moans and gasps and his own heavy breathing.

This time, Chase's cock was trapped between their bodies, and once again, he felt his body tighten up way to soon. "_Need to come_," he gasped. He was too turned on to be embarrassed about begging this time. "_Please, let me come_."

House felt his own body approaching completion, but he needed a little bit more. "Aww, you're gonna have to ask a little sweeter," he teased against the younger man's reddened lips, just needing to push him a little bit harder before he let him come undone.

Chase moaned and kissed greedily at House's lips. "_Please make me come... fill me up_," he begged softly.

That was all it took to send House close to his breaking point. "Come for me," he demanded, his thrusts now fast and hurried, holding back his own orgasm until after Chase found his.

Chase's eyes rolled back into his head as he finally arched his back and came with only House's cock against his prostate and the friction of their chests on his own erection. House continued to thrust into him until he felt his entire body tighten and release in an explosion of pleasure as he emptied himself into him. He cried out as he collapsed on top of Chase, still deeply buried.

Chase closed his eyes and enjoyed the pleasant weight on his chest and the feeling of House twitching inside of him. When the doctor finally caught his breath, he slowly slid out of him and watched, entranced, as some of his come spilled out of him along with a small amount of blood. He rolled off of the younger man and collapsed onto his back, not knowing the right words to say.

Chase winced when House pulled out of him. Now that the rush of lust was slowly dissipating into a warm afterglow, the pain of their coupling was beginning to make itself known. After a few silent moments, Chase finally found his voice. "In the morning you will be released and you can go back to your old life. I suggest we forget this ever happened."

House snickered into the darkness as if he were completely unconcerned. "Good luck forgetting _that_," he teased arrogantly, keeping the mood light. This wasn't the end of this, and somehow, they both knew it.

Chase turned onto his side to look at House, and a moment later, he reached out to run his hand tentatively down his broad, sweaty chest. House closed his eyes as his heart finally began to slow down to normal. "You have no right to get rid of me, just for your sake," he told him angrily.

Chase scooted closer so he could rest his head on House's shoulder, a dull pain echoing through his sore body. "A lot is going to happen soon. I won't be in here much longer," he whispered. "It is the only way to keep you safe."

House didn't move when Chase leaned closer. He had never been a snuggler. He _still_ wasn't a snuggler, but he would allow it just this time because he could tell that the younger man needed it now. "I don't believe that. And if you're going to kick me out just to get me away from you, I deserve to know what is really going on and why you're leaving... and where you're going," he insisted, his voice low so only he could hear.

"I can't tell you. It's too dangerous for both of us."

"That only makes me need to know what it is _more_," House grumbled, getting angrier by the second. Chase was like one giant human cliffhanger. "At least tell me where you're going, dammit."

"I will finish my mission here and then I will receive orders for my next one. I don't know where I will end up."

House decided then that he didn't really need Chase to tell him. He could still figure it out on his own. "Alright, then. It can't be anything to do with the inmates here. Otherwise, you would never have come to me instead of staying with Mendelson. It must have something to do with the guards, right?" he asked knowingly. "I wonder what juicy details you have discovered. Are they selling drugs? Murdering inmates? Stealing? Dropping soap in showers?"

"You talk too much," Chase silenced him. "Just get some sleep."

That made something inside of House suddenly snap, and instantly, he had Chase pinned underneath him as he growled in his face. "Tell me!" he demanded.

Chase glared up at the other man for a moment before relenting, "If I tell you why I am here you won't want to be near me anymore. We have one night left together. Can't we just enjoy it?"

House wouldn't accept that as an answer. "You don't know me. Maybe you're wrong," he insisted, still holding Chase down.

Chase raised an eyebrow at that. "I'm still not telling you anything," he said stubbornly.

House held him there for a moment longer, staring angrily into his eyes. "Fine," he growled, shoving Chase away as he lay back down on his back. His hand came down to his leg to massage out a cramp now that the amazing sex they had just had settled in and made him ache.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Chase spoke again. "Will you go back to working at the hospital when you get out?" he asked.

House wasn't willing to give Chase any information if he himself wasn't going to get any from him. He shrugged. "Don't know. Lost my license when I drove my car through my boss-slash-girlfriend's house," he told him, though he knew deep down that there was no other option for him. It was go back to work or nothing for him.

"You will get it back," Chase said confidently. "So why did you drive a car through your girlfriend's house?"

"Oh, are you going to make that happen, too?" House challenged, because he was pretty sure Cuddy and probably most of the hospital was still mad as hell at him. "I saw her with her new boyfriend," he answered simply.

"I could," Chase shrugged, but made no further indication that he would. "So you _are_ the jealous boyfriend type."

"You made it very clear we are never to see each other again after tomorrow morning, so don't fuck with my life and my job," House insisted. "And so what if I am? Every boyfriend is jealous. Every _person_ is jealous. At least I'm open about it."

Chase sighed. "I won't interfere with your life anymore."

"Good. Now, quid pro quo, Clarise. Do you have anyone waiting for you back home? A man? A woman? A goldfish? If you even _have_ a home..." House asked snidely, but the tips of his fingers were gentle as they brushed up and down the younger man's spine.

"I have a... partner," Chase admitted, trying to think of the proper word for what he and the other man in his life were. "We work together, but we aren't always sent out on the same missions."

Immediately, House's heart sank. He wondered why he said that he had gone so long without sex when he had someone this whole time. "So you're two-timing him?" he asked, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. "Or two-timing _me_?"

"It's not like that. We are only together when it is convenient to be," Chase tried to explain.

"What does he look like?" House asked a little angrily, but he knew he had no right to be jealous. He had no claim to Chase and didn't want one, despite what he had told him during their more heated moments.

"He's a little older than me. In his early thirties. He's a little taller, but not as tall as you. Light brown hair and grey eyes," Chase told him as much as he could.

"Is he hot?" House asked bluntly. This time, he was not able to keep the anger out of his tone.

"I guess… but he's a Brit," Chase smiled as he wrapped an arm around House's waist. "What about your girlfriend? Is she hot?" he teased.

"She's not my girlfriend anymore," House answered gruffly. He thrilled when Chase wrapped himself around him, and as much as he wanted to get even closer, he remained still. "And yes, she's hot. But she's... different than I am."

Chase nodded as if he understood. "I wish… I wish I had met you before. Maybe when I was still in school."

House didn't really know what he meant by that. "Oh, and would it be different? You would want nothing to do with me if we had met under any circumstances and I sure as hell wouldn't have wanted anything to do with you," he lied.

"I've always had a thing for older men with god complexes," Chase smiled.

That made House lighten up a little, at least enough to tease back. "I guess I've always had a thing for cute blondes, especially with exotic accents, fake or not," he snickered, and his hands drifted down to play lightly with the skin right above Chase's perfect ass.

Chase sighed and relaxed into the other man's touch. "Lucky me."

"You still had no right to fuck around with my life like this," House reminded him despite how light his fingertips grazed the small of his back.

"I fucked with your life?" Chase demanded, sitting up to glare down at House. "You are the one who pushed yourself right into my line of fire. You should be thanking me. I'm getting you out of prison. Alive."

"And you won't even tell me why," House accused angrily. He knew they were just running in circles. "It's not like I screamed it out loud in the cafeteria, I haven't said a word to any of these morons about your stupid secret!"

"I let you fuck me. That should be enough," Chase said harshly.

"Oh, you _let _me? I'm sorry, but you were the one practically exploding with angst and begging to be fucked, you were the one that asked me for it, so don't bullshit me!" House hissed as loud as he dared.

Chase pushed him away angrily before he rose up off the bunk and hastily pulled his pants back up. "I was not begging for it!"

House panicked when Chase got up and began to dress. He knew he shouldn't care. He knew he should just get this over with and rip the band-aid off quickly. "Alright, fine, we were both begging for it. I'm too tired to fucking fight, lay back down," he sighed.

Chase paused to look over at House. When he saw the pain in the other man's face, he relented and lay back down beside him. "You are bossy," he said as his hand reached down to help House massage his leg.

"Yeah, that's the pot calling the kettle bossy," House sneered, but he melted underneath the hard massage that instantly relieved his pain. "That's good," he exhaled as he closed his eyes.

"What happened to your leg?" Chase asked gently.

"Infarction. The muscle tissue died. I wouldn't let them amputate," he explained in a way that told Chase not to dare pity him.

"You are stubborn." Chase smiled. "You think you know what's best all the time, don't you?"

"I always do know best. You should have realized that by now," House told him as he relaxed further under Chase's experienced hands. "Don't stop," he demanded.

Chase rolled his eyes but kept up the massage. "This is one thing I am not trained for, you know."

House had to smile through his anger. His leg was feeling better, but he would never tell that to Chase. Then what excuse would he have to keep him close to him? "I don't give a damn what you're trained for," he told him. "It's your fault it hurts, anyway."

"My fault? I just laid there and took what you gave me," Chase said in a seductive tone.

House smirked at that, loving the sound of the other man's velvet voice when he is trying to turn him on. "I would have let you take control if you wanted to," he teased, though he wasn't sure that he really would have let him.

Chase snorted at that. "Sure you would have."

"Well, I'm pretty defenseless right now. If you wanted to jump me and have your wicked way with me, I wouldn't even be able to stop you," he suggested, secretly wishing he would. Anything to prevent the dawn from coming faster.

"No you wouldn't," Chase said as his hands crept back up House's leg to his cock that was half hard already. One thing House had always been proud of, or rather, arrogant of, was his size and stamina.

Chase kissed up House's neck until he reached his parted lips, his hand still stroking his sensitive cock into full hardness. House kissed him hard, trying not to thrust his hips up into the other man's tight hand. He groaned with the effort it took to hold himself back from coming again so quickly and bit Chase's full bottom lip. He wondered why he was doing this, pleasing him like this. The way he was kissing him almost made House believe that he enjoyed giving him pleasure just as much as House enjoyed getting it.

Chase's hand sped up as his kiss intensified, letting his tongue sneak past House's lips and explore his mouth. House let his own hand slide up Chase's lean, muscled chest and the pad of his thumb molested his nipple as he slowly rocked his hips into his hand.

Chase moaned into the kiss and pulled away to pant harshly against House's lips. "Come for me," he demanded huskily.

House smirked in amusement as he watched Chase almost lose it just from touching him like this. He was so painfully close to the edge that he could taste it, but he wanted Chase to force it out of him. "You like this. You like getting me off, don't you?"

Chase huffed out a laugh at that. "Yes," he admitted. "Seeing you get worked up gets me worked up."

House used every ounce of his willpower to hold himself back just long enough to get more of a rise out of Chase, to watch him lose it before he himself lost it. And then, lose him forever. "What else gets you worked up?"

"Your hands on my ass," Chase admitted. Anything else he could have said would have been far too embarrassing.

House immediately grabbed Chase's sore ass in his palms and squeezed as hard as he could. He moaned in approval and demanded another deep kiss from him. Chase groaned, let go of his cock, and began to grind his body down against his.

"You want me to come all over you?" House whispered in his ear, his own hands possessive on his hips.

"_God, yes_!" Chase cried out.

House took both their cocks into his broad fist and began to jerk them off simultaneously. When he heard Chase's shout, he lost control and closed his eyes so tight he saw stars as his orgasm raked through him. "_Fuck!_" he exhaled. Seconds later, House watched Chase's expression carefully as his body quivered and came undone a second time.

"Good boy," House teased, letting just the tips of his fingers ghost up and down Chase's spine as he heaved against him.

House knew that Chase was exhausted now and it was only a matter of time before they both fell asleep and woke the next morning alone. His fingers continued their light touches over his body, feeling the shivers run through his own body.

House did not even bother to move them, their lazy cocks laying flat against one another and their arms still hot on each other's skin. It wasn't uncomfortable at all. Eventually, the slight rise and fall of Chase's chest on top of his lulled him to sleep, no matter how much he tried to fight it.

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Jail Bait (4/?)  
**Authors:** A Darker Heave  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
** Word Count: **4,605  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

Chase started awake in an instant. When he realized where he was and who he was with, he allowed himself to relax. He could tell they only had a few minutes before the doors would open and he would have to live another day in Hell, all while he let the one thing in his life that seemed to make sense walk away from him.

House had felt the body next to him moving, and in return, he stirred from his own shallow sleep. "Thanks for waking me," he growled. His eyes were still closed.

"I didn't want you to ruin it," Chase whispered, not moving from where his head rested on House's chest.

House didn't know whether he was happy or angry that Chase was still there. He had hoped to wake up and find him gone. Maybe then he could have convinced himself that it was all just a fucked up dream from the Vicodin withdrawal. But yet here he was, as real as ever and warm against his body.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" House demanded, not moving from where he lay except for one hand that reached down to massage his aching leg. It always hurt more in the mornings. He had become used to his breakfast of Vicodin.

Chase sat up just enough to look down at House. The doctor tried not to stare at how beautiful sleep has made him. "No, I don't, but soon the guards will come for you and you will get to go home," Chase told him as he reached down to help House massage his leg.

House grimaced, but allowed Chase to work out the cramp. "Lucky me," he growled. Though a huge part of him undeniably couldn't wait to get out of this hell hole, he still resented Chase for pushing him away. It wasn't meant to happen like this. There was so much more than just an unsolved case here. He had never met anyone like Chase before, and he didn't think he ever would again.

"You _are_ lucky. You don't know how lucky you are," Chase told him.

"And why do you think that?" House asked, though he knew Chase would just give him an empty answer.

"Because I like you," Chase teased. "And because I let you fuck me."

House had to laugh at that. "I'm sure I won't be the last one. I hear you really like those doctors in the infirmary," he challenged, a tinge of jealousy in his tone.

"Well, obviously I have a thing for doctors," Chase admitted without admitting anything at all. He didn't like how House was starting to put things together.

"And what is that thing?" House asked as his fingers lingered up and down Chase's spine.

"I like smart people," Chase shrugged when he realized he had no other answer. He sighed happily from House's light touch and leaned into it like a big cat.

"Just because someone is a doctor doesn't make them _smart_, believe me," House disagreed. "Are you just going to move in on one of them after I leave?" he accused.

"I don't plan on being here much longer," Chase told him vaguely.

"That didn't answer my question," House demanded, trying not to sound as possessive as he really felt. He knew that he had no right to feel this way, but he couldn't stand the idea of Chase jumping into anyone else's bed, especially someone that would not treat him as well as he has.

"I saved your ass and got you out of here. I don't owe you any promises," Chase shot back coldly.

House rolled his eyes when he realized he would have a better conversation with the concrete wall. "Fine. Slut it up. I can't stop you and it's none of my business anyway," he practically barked. "It really is pathetic, though... using sex to get your way. Does your boss know you do it?"

Chase pulled away from House then. "I was trained to do whatever was necessary to complete the mission."

"Was I part of your mission? I know I wasn't at first, but what part did I play in it?" House probed, perhaps as one last attempt to get answers.

"You did nothing but cause me trouble!" Chase finally shouted.

That actually silenced House for a moment as he watched the anger flush over Chase's face. "And give you great sex," he smirked, quite content with himself, especially because he knew now that Chase wasn't lying. He hadn't been part of his plan. "Don't forget about the sex."

Chase rolled his eyes. "There is _no one_ else in this world that can piss me off as easily as you can," he huffed as he lay back down beside the other man.

"Good. The feeling is mutual, baby," House snickered before he grabbed Chase's messy hair and man handled him into a hard kiss.

Chase moaned happily against his lips and returned the kiss with just as much enthusiasm. He usually didn't like when lovers treated him like this, but for some reason, it was easy to relax with House even as the older man poured all of his hate and desire and infatuation and frustration into it. House's hands snaked their way down his chest to land on his hips. He didn't care that at any moment someone could walk in. None of that mattered anymore.

A moment later, a short, purposeful cough interrupted them and Chase pulled away to see that two guards had walked into the cell. "Time to leave your boy toy behind, House. I have orders to take you to the infirmary and get you checked out before you go."

House did not move from where he was tangled with Chase. "Can we have a minute? I got something I need to walk off," he smirked, hoping to make the guards and Chase a little bit uncomfortable.

One of the guards rolled his eyes and left, but the other stayed behind a moment longer to smile. "At least you know how to pick 'em, Doc," he said before he also left the cell.

Chase was quiet until they were alone again. "You should get going," he tired to urge him.

House glared at Chase, ignoring his advice. "Why did he look at you that way? Does he want you?" he demanded. It was one thing for the sex-deprived inmates to covet Chase, but another for a guard, who goes home to his wife and kids every night, to give Chase _that _look.

"I have no idea what he is thinking," Chase denied with a glare of his own.

"Really?" House challenged. "I think you know exactly what he is thinking. What is it between you and the guards here?" he demanded, not bothering to keep his voice down.

"Why do you keep persisting to find out what I am doing when you know I am not going to tell you anything?" Chase asked in a hushed tone.

House rolled his eyes and sat up, the thin covers of the cot conveniently covering his lower half. "Whatever," he growled at Chase, expertly pretending not to care anymore. "I'm ready to go," he barked at the men waiting outside the door as soon as he was dressed.

Chase glared at House's back. "No, you're not," he told him quietly. "Kiss me goodbye."

That made House stop and look towards the guards who both looked impatient. One of them averted his eyes awkwardly. "You will be fine without it," he muttered.

"No I won't... kiss me," Chase demanded again, not caring about their audience.

House gave Chase an irritated glance before he turned and looked towards the guards. "Another minute?" he asked.

"We give the orders around here and we already gave you a minute. Get up off your ass and come on... unless you want to stay in here with your boy toy," one of the guards with the evil smile said.

For a brief second, House hesitated. He wondered why Chase was doing this, but he decided then that he was done with the games. If he didn't walk out now, it would only make the situation worse. "No, definitely not," he told the guards as he grabbed his cane and limped away.

Chase watched him go and bit his tongue so hard he tasted blood. He wanted to call out to him, to tell him everything, but he knew too much was at stake to risk it all for his own feelings. He lay back down on the bed and inhaled the smell of House all around him.

He was alone once again.

This is a complete waste of time, House thought to himself as he sat on the edge of the cold clinic table and waited for one of the doctors to check him over and let him leave. He just wanted to get the hell out of here. The sooner, the better. He wanted to forget any of this ever happened.

He looked around the clinic angrily. He thought about Chase's apparent fascination with the doctors and wondered if he could find anything in the room that would give him the answers that he had denied him. He was just about to get up and snoop around when a man in a clean, pressed lab coat walked in.

"Going somewhere, Mr. House?" a crisp, British accent asked. The doctor that entered was tall and ruggedly handsome. "You cannot leave until I release you."

House gave the man a fake smile and winced as he sat back down on the table. His accent had caught him off guard, but House knew instantly that he didn't have to look very far for some of the answers that were right in front of his nose.

"So release me, Dr. Who," he smirked.

The other doctor smiled at that. He opened House's file and looked down at it. "You came in here clean. Have you had any unprotected sex since you came to prison?"

House watched the man's face very carefully as he chose his next words. "Oh, yes, many times. And I wasn't even raped," he boosted. "But only with one partner. The blonde hottie everyone's been talking about. He has a mouth like a hoover."

The doctor's expression did not change, but he did clench his pen tighter. "You mean your new cellmate... Robert Chase?"

House watched the tension rise in the other doctor, even as he tried to hide it. He was good, but not that good. "That would be the one," House smirked. "Why, you know him?"

The doctor looked up from the chart to better assess his patient. "He helps out in the infirmary sometimes. He seems like a nice kid."

"Helps out?" House asked sarcastically. "Must have a thing for doctors."

"I wouldn't know," the doctor answered with one raised eyebrow as he scribbled something on the chart. "At least the boy is clean, so you can consider yourself lucky."

House was getting tired of hearing that. "Now if you'll excuse me, doc, I'm going to get the hell out of here," he announced, giving him his best fake smile as he hopped painfully off the table.

"Dr. House, some advice," the doctor stopped him before he could walk out. "You should forget about your time here and move on with your life."

House was already limping away when he said, "I'm already moving on with my life. But some things, I can't forget," he smirked back at the other man as he walked out the door a free man.

Weeks passed, and it didn't take long for House to find himself slipping right back into his old life.

But pieces of it were missing, and House could not adjust. Foreman being in charge was both a curse and a blessing. After all, he was solely responsible for giving House his job back, even at the risk of his own. But with his new administration came change. And House was never good with change. Cuddy still haunted the halls of the hospital like a vengeful ghost, but still, he had no regrets. He wouldn't allow himself.

He had spent most of his time plotting exactly how he could weasel his way back into Wilson's life. He felt _disowned_, and it hurt a lot more than he thought it ever would. He supposed he always knew it would happen one day, and he supposed he always knew it would be his fault. But he was determined to get that friendship back, even if he didn't deserve it. Wilson was the only one he had left.

And so there he was, sitting in a coma patient's room watching the news. It was too late in the evening for his soaps and everything else bored him. In prison, he learned that there really _was_ such a thing as too much television.

It was a cry for attention, in a way, although to some it may look like House was trying his best to hide from the world. He knew that Wilson may come looking for him just like he used to and that he may expect to find him there.

He must still worry about him. He _must_ still care, in that stupid, annoying, unselfish way of his.

Restlessly, House picked up the remote to change the channel and politely asked the comatose patient if he minded. He took his silence as a no. He was just about to begin surfing when his finger froze and a breaking news update urgently interrupted him.

The prison had broken out into a riot. Many were injured. The camera was frantic in its shaky attempt to capture what it could, and House saw a few familiar faces, but none of them were the one he was looking for. He sat up, despite his cramping leg, and listened as the anchor explained that some of the injuries were so severe that some inmates would be transported out of the prison. To a hospital.

_His_ hospital.

The riot had meant to serve as a distraction. For Chase, the plan definitely had not included getting attacked by Mendelson's men during his escape. Caught off guard, Chase couldn't fight back in time.

He blacked out, but when exactly, he didn't know. He only remembered a sharp pain in his gut, the panic of his life draining out onto the floor, and his world dissolving into darkness. When he woke again, he was laying on his back, squinting painfully up at the blinding lights as he was wheeled into a hospital ER. Later, he would realize how lucky he was that there was not enough time for them to stab him properly.

When he came to and realized where he was, Chase panicked even more. He knew he couldn't stay here. He wasn't safe in a hospital. But the stab wound in his side and rush of the nurses and doctors around him made him dizzy.

He saw his chance when the gurney finally came to a stop. A distracted nurse had left a scalpel on a tray, and instinct kicked in before common sense could even have the chance. Chase jumped up from the bed, grabbed the scalpel and the nearest doctor. He held the scalpel to the small, brunette's throat, using his hostage as leverage and forcing the others to back away. Even as he was bleeding out.

Before Chase could think of what to do next, someone walked up (or limped up) behind him and grabbed the weapon out of his hand. The brunette doctor nearly fainted to the ground as the nurses continued to cower in the corner. "Just what do you think you are doing, you idiot?! Lie back down!" House shouted angrily at him.

Chase just blinked as his hostage and his weapon suddenly slipped out of his hands. "Hey you… where am I?" he asked deliriously, thinking that this all must be a dream, especially if House was here. Chase felt another wave of nauseating dizziness, and to keep himself from falling, he reached for House and clung to his shirt.

House had to smile as Chase lost his strength. Chase's wound was bad and he was going to die if he kept standing, or _trying_ to stand. "You're in a hospital. Now lie down before I stick a tranquilizer in your ass," House spoke calmly to him while the nurses continued to stare in shock.

"It wouldn't be the first thing you've stuck something in my ass," Chase laughed breathlessly. He was still trying to be cheeky despite the blood loss.

House laughed at that. He didn't have to see the nurse's expressions to know they were confused. "Lie down, or I'll make you do it. Do you want to die, you moron?" he demanded, though his voice was oddly affectionate.

"No, I definitely don't want to die," Chase admitted as he allowed House to ease him down onto to the bed. "I can't stay here... don't come near me!" he yelled when another doctor stormed into the room.

"Nurse, give me a damn tranquilizer," House barked at one of the useless women behind him. Thankfully, one of them rushed to hand House a syringe. Before Chase would react, he pulled down his pants and stabbed him in the ass while a team of other doctors rushed in to strap him down with restraints.

House continued to stand over him, watching for signs of his sedation. "You son of a bitch," Chase accused, but it was a bit slurred.

House knew this was never part of Chase's plan. He also knew that he was just as stubborn as the younger man was himself. If they did not keep him tied down, he would escape before any of these stupid doctors and nurses could blink. House gave him one more amused grin. "And you're even stupider than I thought. Where the hell would you escape to? Now count down from ten, you are going to have surgery," he demanded.

"Fuck you," Chase managed to sneer before his eyes rolled back in his head and his body gave into the drugs. The nurses and ER doctor took over from there, wheeling their patient to the operating room.

House watched as he was wheeled away. He would live, but it would be a long, stressful surgery and an even longer recovery. He wondered who it was that stabbed him, was it Mendelson? His own blood boiled at the thought.

But those questions didn't matter now. House leaned on his cane, looking towards the direction of the surgery room. He barely heard Wilson approach, but he did in time to turn around and give him a strange look. Was he finally going to speak to him?

"I guess you got out of there just in time, huh?" Wilson asked, though his tone was all but friendly and House didn't know how to respond. He was talking to him as if he didn't even know him. But he could tell Wilson was at least curious enough to temporarily break his cold-shoulder act. House had been suspiciously tight lipped about his time in prison. "Was he a friend of yours?"

House studied him. No matter how good his ability to read people was, Wilson still could confuse him. "No, I have no more friends now. Remember?" he had to smirk as he said it.

Wilson ignored that comment. "The nurses said he responded to you... and now you are actually worried about him. You can't blame me for being curious. So who is he?"

"I'm not worried about him. He tried to kill those idiot nurses, so I stopped him and sedated him. And it's not quite fair that you won't talk to me when I want to talk to you, but when you want to ask me something, you expect me to answer," House lied easily while ignoring his interrogation and changing the subject.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Fine, don't answer my questions. I will just find someone who will. After all, I'm sure there are a few more of your fellow inmates that would be happy to gossip about you."

"So suddenly you care again?" House growled. "Mind your own business."

With that, House walked away. He was hoping to distract himself enough to forget about what had just happened. Chase was no longer his problem. He had to remember that. But his past always did have a way of coming back to haunt him.

The surgery went well, and a few hours later, Chase was sent to a recovery room to be watched over.

House tossed his tennis ball into the air and caught it without looking as he glared into space. The knife had missed his vital organs, and although he would have bled out if given enough time, the surgery had saved him. As of right now, he knew he was still knocked out and strapped down.

He debated for a long time over whether to leave or check in on him. He knew that Chase must be heavily sedated, so he could get away with taking a peak. No one would ever know if he did it fast.

Pretending like he was getting ready to go home, as most of the doctors had for the day, House took a short cut into the recovery room where Chase was still unconscious in a bed. No one was watching him. _Stupid idiots_, he muttered to him. He took a few Vicodin pills dry and limped over to the machines that monitored him.

"Don't push any buttons," Chase slurred heavily. He had been awake for about an hour, but spent the majority of the time trying to work open the cuffs and cloth bonds that kept him contained.

House raised one eyebrow when he heard Chase's slurred accented words that he almost couldn't make out. "I'm not here to push buttons. I was sent to check your vitals," he lied, trying to act like he didn't care. "But I see you are back to your paranoid, sarcastic self, so don't worry, I'm leaving."

"Don't," Chase rushed to say, and his freed hand shot out to grab House's arm. 'You have to get me out of here. I can't stay. It's not safe."

House looked down where Chase had grabbed him. All the bonds were lying slack on the bed, but Chase had still been far too drugged to escape. "You got _yourself _in here," he accused. "Nothing is going to happen to you. They only know you by your favorite alias, anyway. _I_ don't even know your real name. You are just being paranoid because of the drugs. Besides, you would die if you tried to escape now, and the world would be down one slutty, stupid secret agent. Do you really want to do that?"

"Please, House," Chase pleaded, trying to focus his eyes. "I can't stay here. They will find me and kill me."

House smirked down at Chase. "Stop begging. It's only cute when my dick is up your ass," he told him softly. "No one is going to find you. Wait until you heal, and _then_ get yourself out of this mess."

Chase groaned and leaned back against the pillows. "I can't think. The drugs..."

"Yeah, you're not thinking," House agreed. "Get your special agent doctor friend to help you. Not me," he told him with a bit of resentment in his tone as he worked to tie the restraints extra tight and cuff him again.

"He can't... the mission is over. Please, don't leave me here."

That rose House's interest once again. His mission was complete, ending in chaos and a very near brush with death, but it also meant that Chase had gotten what he wanted. "It it's done then you should have nothing to run away from. Were you planning this riot all along? Who stabbed you?"

Chase shook his head sluggishly. "There are others looking for me. That's why things had to move along so quickly. I'm not being paranoid."

"Yes you are," House told him, though his tone was soft. He found back the urge to reach out and touch him, to assure himself that he really was here. He wished then he had just gone home. That way, Chase could go on thinking that House was gone. "Nothing is going to happen to you. You're under twenty-four hour subservience. Go to sleep or you'll bust your stitches and spend even longer in the hospital bed."

Chase forced himself to look relaxed. "As soon as I can stand, I'm out of here," he promised House. "But I must say, it is crazy running into you again. How is life outside the big house?"

"Deal," House agreed, because it was a good enough compromise. "And you will know how it is now that you're not going back," he added as if he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it didn't happen.

Chase pulled down the covers to get a better look at wound and started picking at the tape that held the gauze. "I'm definitely not going back there. I'm taking a vacation after this one."

"Good boy," House smiled, and when he saw Chase picking at the tape, he reached out to swat away his hand. "Bad boy," he corrected.

Chase pouted. "I want to see how bad it is."

"It's bad. And it will get worse if you take off the bandages," House demanded, ready to swat away his hand again. "It missed your vital organs. Whoever stabbed you didn't know where to put the knife."

"Well, not all of us can have doctorate degrees," Chase smiled, beginning to get sleepy again. "I'm glad you're here," he admitted softly as he closed his eyes and reached for House's hand.

Surprised, House ripped his hand away and glared down at him. What they had was over. He wasn't even sure they had _anything_. He wasn't going to say goodbye to him a second time. "You're the one that wanted nothing more to do with me," he reminded.

"I sent you away to protect you, not because I wanted to get rid of you," Chase told him. "I wouldn't have let you fuck me if I didn't care about you."

House rolled his eyes. He didn't want to hear this. "You don't even know me. And I don't need your protection," he insisted a little defensively. "And I don't know you," he reminded in spite.

"You could know me. We could start all over," Chase offered as his eyes opened halfway.

House sighed in frustration. He couldn't listen to this. "You don't want to know me. And you are too drugged up to be thinking clearly," he told him. "You should have kept me while you had me, kid."

"You would have gotten hurt. I could not risk having to worry about you... and don't call me kid."

"I told you, I can take care of myself, even if you did save my ass in the showers," House admitted with a sly smile before adding, "Kiddo."

"I hate you," Chase said so softly that it sounded like something else entirely.

"Alright, I'm leaving then. Don't do anything stupid," House demanded, grabbing his cane and standing upright to leave the room.

"You think everything I do is stupid," Chase pointed out miserably.

House stopped to consider that. "Yeah," he agreed. "Go to sleep. Eat your pudding. And stay where you are," he ordered, and before he changed his mind, he walked away.

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Jail Bait (5/?)  
**Authors:** A Darker Heaven  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
** Word Count: **5,470  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

*************************************************************************

That night, Chase disappeared from his bed. His nurses and the hospital security had panicked until an official looking man in an expensive suit showed up and told them the prisoner had been moved into protective custody.

House knew that was a lie right away, but the hospital seemed satisfied and moved on. House too tried to be satisfied with it. He tried to move on, to let it go, and to accept the fact that Chase was gone. Again. And this time, never to return. He tried to accept the fact that he was once again truly alone. He didn't think it would affect him as much as it did. So he distracted himself with a case which he and his team solved by the end of the night just as the patient was a breath's away from death.

He rode home on his bike that night and limped into his apartment to immediately swallow a handful of Vicodin with a cold beer. For a weekend night, the neighbors were eerily quiet. He could hear the soft _wrrr_ of his fridge and the slow sound of cars passing outside, but the rest was deafening silence.

The apartment was so quiet that it was amazing there was another person in it. Chase waited until House had downed his beer before he stepped out of the shadows. "You need better locks," he said hoarsely through the pain, his hand clenching his bleeding side.

House nearly dropped his beer when Chase emerged in front of him like a ghost. The panic hit him like a blow to the face. "_Holy shit! What the fuck!?_ _You goddamn idiot! You_-…" he suddenly paused in his shouting to catch his breath and slow his racing heart. He looked down at Chase's blood stained shirt. No, not his shirt, _House's_ shirt. Little thief. "Did you tear your stitches?!" he demanded.

"Probably," Chase admitted, but he seemed utterly unconcerned. "I couldn't stay in the hospital. It wasn't safe."

"_And this is?_" House yelled, observing how pale and sweaty Chase's face was. He was clearly in a great amount of pain and had been without medication for hours. "Lay down. _Now_," he ordered the younger man, pointing to the couch. He wasn't going to put Chase in his bed. This wasn't his problem. Chase had made that very clear.

When Chase made no immediate effort to move, House practically forced Chase over to the couch and laid him down. He swallowed and pulled up his shirt. He was bleeding through his stitches, but oddly enough, they were still intact. The risk of infection now was high, so he limped quickly into the kitchen to grab the right items to sanitize and a few Vicodin pills with water.

"Take these, drink this. And this is going to hurt," was all the warning he gave before he cleansed the wound with unsympathetic roughness.

Chase hissed from the pain but shoved the pills away. "Your bedside matter impresses me, Dr. House. But I'm not taking anymore meds. I cannot think on them," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"You are the most paranoid person I've ever met. You _aren't_ in the system, Chase. No one knows you're here," he practically growled. He grabbed some gauze and re-bandaged his side. "But suit yourself, it's your pain," he shrugged indifferently.

"Being paranoid has kept me alive," Chase defended, still through gritted teeth.

"So I've heard, Mr. Redundant," House sighed, and when Chase wasn't looking, he dropped two Vicodin into the glass of water. "Drink this," he demanded, holding out the glass to him.

Chase took the glass shakily, and instead of just taking a sip, he began to gulp it down greedily. House tried not to smirk as Chase eventually pulled back for air and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "I've sorry if I'm not up to par on my vocal skills. I've been stabbed," he glared.

"Who stabbed you?" House asked again, but before he could answer, he held the glass up to his mouth again. "Drink more," he insisted.

"Fucking Mendleson's dogs," Chase growled as he slowly sipped the water this time. "I finished… doing what I was there to do and Mendleson's men caught up with me when I was on my way out. I was so close."

House was silent for a while as he considered that. He wondered if it was his fault. If he hadn't stolen Chase away from him, would this have happened? "What caused the riot?" he asked a few minutes later, trying to keep his expression emotionless, but the anger was evident in his tone. "Was it you?" he asked knowingly.

Something besides pain was making Chase's brain fuzzy, and after one more sip of water, he finally began to taste something strange. "Of course it was me. I needed a cover...- _Oh, you ass! You drugged the water!_"

"Yes, secret agent boy, I tricked you," House teased smugly. "And tomorrow, you are leaving. I don't care where you go, but this is my apartment and I like being here alone," he insisted, though he didn't know who he was trying to convince more.

Chase laughed breathlessly. "I walked all the way here and you already want to kick me out?" he teased.

House fought back a smile. "You are not my responsibility. I don't take in strays, especially ones that sneak into my house and steal my clothes. Go to your partner's place, wherever he is now. He is supposed to have your back."

"That's not how it works," Chase told him drowsily. "He went on to his next mission when the riot started... that was the plan."

"So he just abandoned you?" House asked, wondering what kind of a work it really is.

"He did his job. I would think you of all people would understand that."

House didn't know what he meant by that, but he didn't care, either. "It doesn't matter. You're not staying," he insisted. And he meant it. If Chase stayed, it would be harder to say goodbye a third time. "I like being here alone."

"You're a liar. You're the loneliest person I've ever met. But all right. If I can walk out of here tomorrow, I will," Chase agreed.

House smirked. "In the meantime, I like my eggs over easy and my fridge stocked with beer, by the way."

"Fuck you, I'm not your maid," Chase barked back at him.

"If you can shape my pancakes into stars, I'll consider you staying," House added.

Chase huffed. "I can't cook."

"Well, learn," House teased before he reached out to ruffle his hair as if he were a small child, if only to see the flash of annoyance on his face.

"Why don't you hire a cook or something?" Chase grumbled, giving away his privileged childhood.

House rolled his eyes grabbed his cane, limping off to his bedroom. "Enjoy your meds. Go to sleep," he demanded as he slammed his bedroom door.

Unable to sleep, House checked on Chase an hour later. He was passed out with his mouth parted slightly and his breathing calm and even. He was still shirtless. House fought back the urge to stare.

Chase could even make drooling look erotic.

The next morning, House made a few phone calls and left before Chase could wake from his drug induced sleep.

When Chase finally did wake, he groaned from the pounding in his head and the soreness of his abdomen. He was startled when he finally opened his eyes and someone other than House was hovering over him, handing him a glass of water and pills.

"Who the hell are you?!" Chase gasped, glaring at the older woman who had actually managed to sneak up on him. Damn those drugs.

"My name is Janice. Dr. House hired me to help you during the day until you recover. He told me to keep an extra close eye on you. He said you might try to run away or look through his things," she teased, nudging the glass of water closer. "Also, you need to start your physical therapy so you can learn to walk properly again."

"Physical therapy?" Chase questioned angrily. "I don't need that."

"Yes, you do. Or do you want to be a cripple like your boyfriend the rest of your life?" the nurse challenged.

"He's not my boyfriend," Chase denied quickly. He wasn't used to people making assumptions about him so easily without him setting up those assumptions himself.

"Sure, honey. That's what he said, too," the nurse rolled her eyes disbelievingly. "Now take your medicine. He told me you were stubborn…" She held out the water and pills again. "But so am I, honey."

"I'm not taking any pills." Chase growled. He was far too paranoid to be drugged up around a woman he didn't know.

"Fine," the nurse shrugged. "But by the time I'm done with you, you will be begging for them. I can tell already that you're going to be a tough nut to crack, but I happen to be _very_ good at cracking nuts. So come on, get up. Your boyfriend isn't paying me to babysit. He's paying me to get you better and to keep my mouth shut."

Chase groaned, but finally allowed the nurse to help him up. It was only the thought of getting revenge on House that got him through his first day of physical therapy.

House limped through the door to his apartment that second night to find Chase right where he had left him. He shrugged off his jacket and sighed regrettably. "Damn. I thought I'd come back to realize you had just been a Vicodin hallucination," he mumbled. "How did your date with Nurse Ratchet go?"

Chase seemed poised for exactly this moment, ready to finally release his frustration on the man to blame. "You are a _complete asshole_. You know that, right? Why did you hire someone to _help_ me? I'm managing just fine! You had no right, House!" By now, he was yelling through his pain. What happened that morning had finally opened Chase's eyes to the cold, hard fact that he would not be up and about for quite a while. He had to come to terms with the fact that he _was_ human.

House knew all of this, of course. For being such a man of mystery, Chase wasn't as hard a puzzle to solve as he seemed. "You _ungrateful brat_. Yes, I'm a _complete asshole_ to hire a nurse to make sure you recover and are able to walk again as opposed to the rest of your life in a wheelchair?! You're right, I only did it to piss you off," House shouted angrily back at him. "You know, I could kick you back out into the streets if you are so good at _taking care of yourself_. But for some strange reason, I _like _you, and I am going against everything I believe in to make sure you don't _kill yourself_!" It wasn't until those words were already out that House realized what he had just admitted to and quickly looked away from Chase. Suddenly, he felt very naked.

That shut Chase up quick. Any desire to continue their screaming match left him the moment he heard those words, whether the older man meant to say them or not. "Come here," he demanded softly after a few moments of silence.

House still did not look at Chase. "Why?" he muttered, but he limped over to the couch anyway and sat down with plenty of distance between himself and Chase. He continued to glare off into nothing.

Chase bravely scooted close to House and kissed his cheek before he dropped his head to his broad shoulder. "I like you too, you know," he told him as he tangled his fingers with House's. "I'm sorry I was a prick. I'm not used to having someone take care of me."

House nervously took his hand away and tried to shrug Chase off his shoulder with no luck. "You're not used to having any fun, either," he muttered as he reached his bad leg out to nudge the giant (and admittedly impressive) house of cards that Chase had built over to rest it on the coffee table. "And you don't like me. You're just using me. Which I'm fine with, but at least have the balls to admit it," he scowled.

Chase didn't move from his position despite House's best efforts. "I could have gone anywhere and sweet talked anybody into helping me. Instead I came here because I knew I could trust you." He turned his face into the crook of House's neck to kiss him there, sucking hard enough to leave a bruise. "Besides, I'll earn my keep," he promised as his hand slid up the older man's thigh towards his groin.

House panicked and quickly shoved his hand away. "You shouldn't trust me. I don't want your trust," he mumbled, still not looking at him. "And I'm not going to treat you like a whore, either. That's what real whores are for. I'm not some sick old man who is trying to trick you into giving me sex as some kind of payment," he growled defensively.

Chase finally pulled away to glare at House. "It's not like that! I've been stuck in this apartment all day, not knowing if you were coming back or not! Don't you realize I could have killed that nurse if she had startled me!? I'm not like regular people, House, I don't think like they do! And yes, I've been stuck here _bored out of my mind_, thinking of fucking you all day because I've missed your stupid ass!"

That earned Chase a startled expression. "You've been thinking of fucking me? Because you're bored?" House repeated simply as if that was the only thing that he heard.

Chase rolled his eyes. "Yes. Preferably now and on this sofa."

House inhaled sharply then, keeping himself in control even though now all he wanted to do was throw Chase down and rut against him until they both exploded. "The pain and boredom is making you horny, which is admittedly awesomely hot… but there's no way I'm going to let you do anything while you are still recovering from a knife in your gut," he grumbled, rubbing his leg as a distraction. "You don't know how to relax, do you? I'd think a trained dog like you would love having a break for once in your pathetic life."

"Relaxing is boring," Chase said, not liking that he wasn't getting his way. "I could give you a blow job… my mouth isn't injured."

House shifted uncomfortably when he began to feel his body responding to the thought of Chase sucking him off. His cock began to swell and his body felt hot all over. "I'm a lot of things, including an asshole, but I'm not enough of one to take advantage of you no matter how pretty your mouth is. So shut up, I'm getting some beer," he announced, standing a little shakily and using his cane to walk into the kitchen.

Chase rolled his eyes and let him go even if he wasn't planning on giving up yet. "It's not taking advantage if the person is practically gagging for it!" he yelled.

_Gagging_. House tried not to think about it. "It is if that person is out of his mind from pain and would be worse if he moved, you idiot," he growled as he limped back over to the couch and handed Chase a beer. When the younger man reached for it, House took it back. "That is, if you're old enough. I don't know anything about you. For all I know, you could be eighteen," he teased, though he knew it wasn't true. Chase was at least in his twenties.

"Oh please, my passing for a twink days are long passed," Chase huffed, grabbing the beer and chugging it down. He didn't want pills, but he wasn't going to say no to alcohol.

House watched as Chase chugged the beer. He thought it was pathetic that he thought even that was unbelievably hot. "You're still a twink," he teased with a playful smirk as he sat down and reached for the remote. "Don't fool yourself, pretty boy."

"Looking the way I do has saved my ass in the past," Chase told him. "Am I the only guy you've ever been with?" he asked bluntly.

House took a deep swig of his beer and turned on some trash T.V. before he answered. "Of course you are," he scoffed. He thought Chase knew. "I'm not gay."

"You fucked me in the ass, you are at least bisexual," Chase pointed out just to be difficult.

House allowed a small smirk to play at one corner of his lips. "Just because I fucked you in the ass and want to do it again doesn't mean I'm gay or bi. It just means that I like women, but I also like you. I've never wanted to fuck any other guy in the ass but you. So don't label me," he insisted, though it didn't even make sense to him. The truth was, he didn't know what he was, but he also didn't feel like having an identity crisis over it. "Then again, I do have an obsession with sneakers and love soap operas, and fucking you in the ass was the best sex I've ever had. So maybe I am," he joked.

"Best sex ever, huh?" Chase said with a smug smirk. "I'm so good I turn straight men gay? Of course, we were in prison, so there weren't exactly a lot of options for you... you could put it off as that."

"Who says I want to put it off as anything? I don't care that you're a guy. You automatically assume that you're my dirty little secret," he told him. "And yes, the sex was good."

"I guess I'm just used to being the dirty little secret," Chase shrugged.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you," House muttered, twisting off another beer. "So you don't think I was the best lay of your life?" he asked teasingly, though there was a twinge of jealousy in his tone.

"Lube would have been nice," Chase smiled, "but it was pretty damn good for prison sex."

House decided to just be satisfied with that. Being jealous of all of Chase's younger lovers was not going to help anything. "Where are you going when you're better?" he asked, keeping his emotion out of his voice. He had no doubt that Chase would leave him again.

"I don't know," Chase said honestly. "All I have is my job."

House was very disappointed with that answer. "That's pathetic. Where are your parents?"

"Dead," Chase said quietly. "And yours?"

House was surprised by that question. He hesitated before answering. "They're alive. Unfortunately," he muttered, wondering why he asked Chase questions when every answer was probably a lie. "My patient almost died today. You are making me a very bad doctor," he changed the subject.

"You are anything but a bad doctor. People die and almost die… it's what they do. I heard of you before I even met you, you know. My dad was a doctor and he talked about how brilliant you were," Chase admitted.

A smile teased at House's lips at the thought of Chase admiring him as a child. "You distracted me. All day," he told him again. He was getting buzzed, and wouldn't be saying any of this if he weren't.

"Were you thinking about me the same way I was thinking about you?" Chase asked with a grin.

"Depends," the doctor shrugged. "I was thinking about you in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter."

Chase let out a shaky breath just from the images that conjured up. "What was I doing on the kitchen counter?" he asked in an innocently sweet tone.

"Cooking me dinner. Like you should be doing," House teased. "However... in the shower I had you pressed against the wall. But don't cling to that. I haven't had shower sex since my leg happened."

"I'm normally very flexible… I'm sure we could figure something out," Chase grinned as he peeled at the label on his empty beer bottle.

House rolled his eyes at Chase's subtle way of telling House he needed another beer. He winced as he got up, grabbed a bottle of something else, and brought it over to the couch. "Whiskey," he told him, taking a swig straight from the bottle and handing it over to Chase while Jersey Shore played in the background.

"You shouldn't be drinking if you took Vicodin recently," Chase pointed out before he hesitantly took the bottle.

"And you _should_ be taking Vicodin. I guess I'm taking it for both of us," House shrugged. "Now shut up and let me watch T.V. Snookie is about to have her baby," he dismissed.

"What the hell is a Snookie?" Chase wrinkled his nose as he asked. He was never well versed in American pop culture.

House turned to give him a shocked expression. "Do you live under a rock? Oh, yeah, you do. Well, get comfortable and prepare for some seriously good television."

Chase scooted closer to House and laid his head in his lap as he stretched out on the sofa, knowing that wasn't exactly what he meant. "You said to get comfortable," he insisted before House could shove him away.

House said nothing as he relaxed against the couch and allowed the close proximity nervously. After fifteen minutes, he laid a hand on Chase's head and stroked his hair. Chase relaxed even further under House's touch and tried not to purr like a cat. "I will make a snuggler out of you yet," he teased quietly as they watched a ridiculous show.

After that, House recoiled his hand and stiffened his back. "I'm gonna go to bed. Some of us have to get up and go to work tomorrow," he announced a little drunkenly.

Chase rolled over to look up at House. "Kiss me good night and I'll let you up," he ransomed.

House sighed. "Stop pretending like this will work. I'm not playing that game anymore," he said tiredly.

"I'm not playing a game any more. I'm tired of games," Chase pouted. House didn't know what to really say to that. So he remained quiet, glaring at the television screen.

"House," Chase whined, not liking being ignored. "Kiss me please." This time, he sat up just enough to block House's view.

House could not ignore Chase when he was right in front of him, blocking out commercials. He hinted at a smirk just before he delivered the younger man a ridiculously chaste kiss on his lips, just to tease him.

Chase growled and took House's face in his hands before he took the kiss he wanted for himself.

House's hands immediately came to grip Chase's hips, sliding up his shirt and avoiding the wound expertly. He kissed him back deeply despite his earlier hesitation and decided that he liked when Chase tasted like beer.

Chase moaned excitedly and released House's face so his hands could wander down his chest to the button on his jeans, still hoping he would change his mind. House stopped the kiss to inhale sharply and grab Chase's hands. "You're in pain," he stopped him, though it took every bit of his willpower to do it.

"I don't care," Chase insisted roughly, trying to squirm out of House's hold.

"Well, I care for both of us," House snapped, though his chest still heaved from the effort it took and his hands were still hot on his wrists. His mouth was still half an inch away from his.

Chase sighed. House was just beyond his reach yet again. "All right... can we just keep kissing then?"

House allowed himself to smile at that. For such an intelligent man, Chase was sometimes such a child. It was something they had in common. "How was your first day of physical therapy?" he asked, playfully ignoring Chase's request.

"That woman you hired is more heartless than my trainers," Chase said with a pout.

"Aw, poor baby," House mocked him with a fake pout of his own, but his hands centered on his hips again. Chase responded only with another hungry kiss.

House allowed it, opening up to him as it intensified. He melted into Chase, all roughness gone, remembering that Chase had been stabbed and was only hiding his pain. The boy was an expert at it, and House wished he could learn to do the same with his leg.

House's hands remained where they were on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating from him. Finally, when he felt himself get hard, he stopped the kiss. "I would rather not go to bed with blue balls tonight," he muttered.

Chase sighed and leaned his forehead against his. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight? The couch hurts."

House groaned and slumped his shoulders. "I move around in my sleep. Because of my leg," he told him, almost as if he didn't want to admit it.

"I won't get in your way," Chase tried to convince him by kissing down the length of his neck.

"Fine," House gave in. They would be crippled by pain together, then. Except that Chase would get better, and he wouldn't. "Get off me. I'm going to bed," he nudged him.

Chase smiled triumphantly and forced himself off of the other man. "I may need help getting up." he admitted.

House snuck his hand around to squeeze Chase's perfect, round ass as he got off his lap. Before Chase could react, he sat up and held out a hand for him. Chase took the offered hand and tried to hide a wince as he stood up. "I'd almost rather be shot than stabbed. I swear it hurts more."

"I've been shot. It's not walk through the park," House smiled as he offered Chase as much support as he could with his leg. "Easy, take it easy. You're not even supposed to be doing this," he ordered as they moved slowly.

"I walked like ten miles to your apartment from the hospital. I don't know why I'm so weak," Chase muttered as he tried not to lean too heavily on him.

"Well, that's your own stupid fault. They make taxis for a reason." House shoved the door to his bedroom open with his cane and walked Chase to the bed. "Careful. I'm not stitching you up again. And you're supposed to be taking antibiotics."

"You would stitch me back up... and I'm not taking any more pills," Chase insisted stubbornly as he laid down carefully even as he looked around the room curiously. "Is this where you bring all your women?"

House smirked and let go of his hold on Chase. He kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt. "Yes. But sometimes I bring them into the living room. Or the kitchen. Or the hallway outside. Whores aren't picky," he watched Chase's expression.

Chase tried to busy himself with smoothing out the bed covers to cover up his jealousy at the thought of House with other people. He had never felt this kind of possessiveness for another person before and it was a bit alarming. "I'm sure," he said snidely.

House tried to hide his grin as he rubbed his leg and got into bed. "You're jealous."

"I don't get jealous. You can fuck whoever you want," Chase said in a deceptively calm and controlled tone.

"Really?" House laughed at that. "Maybe I should call one of my girls then. You can stay here while we do business in the living room," he proposed, though he made no effort to grab his phone. "I have her on speed dial."

"You wouldn't dare," Chase growled threateningly.

House laughed at Chase's seriousness and crawled over to lay on top of him, careful not to apply too much pressure. "Or you'll what? You're jealous. You want me all to yourself. Admit it," he smirked arrogantly.

"I admit nothing," Chase told him, but his hand gripped House's waist possessively.

"Yeah? Well, I had so much fun with you, maybe I should pick up a rent boy," House provoked.

"That's not funny," Chase said in a warning tone. "You don't like men, you told me so."

"I do now. I like trying new things. I think a rent boy is a good idea."

Having had enough, Chase pulled House down into a hard kiss despite his aching body.

House kissed him back fiercely, moaning into his mouth but stopping when he felt himself grow hard again. At this rate, he's either going to have to relieve himself in the bathroom or have a wet dream all over his new bed mate. "This isn't a good idea," he tried to warn him again.

"You keep saying that and I keep disagreeing." Chase nipped softly at House's lips.

"Only if you agree to antibiotics," House proposed, only because he knew Chase wouldn't agree.

"I'm not taking that shit. My body will heal on its own like it's always done," Chase refused.

"Goddammit, Chase. You will drink alcohol but you won't take antibiotics?" Frustrated, House moved to lie on his back away from the other man. "You're a fucking moron."

Chase grabbed him before he could move too far away from him. "Don't be angry."

"Don't be _stupid_. It's bad enough I have to take care of you now, I'm not taking care of you when you're infected and septic."

"It won't get infected. I'll keep it clean. You worry too much," Chase soothed as his hands slip up the back of House's shirt and massaged the skin he found there.

"You're probably the first to ever say that," the doctor mused, not pushing Chase's hands away. "I'm not worried. I just don't want you to turn out to be more effort than your worth."

"Does that make me special since you don't usually worry?" Chase teased softly, but secretly, he was craving some sort of reassurance after their talk about rent boys.

"What if it did?" House asked, answering his question with a question of his own.

"Then that means you want me here," Chase determined. "So no more pretending you don't."

"You're going to leave," House admitted to nothing.

"I might… for my job… but I would come back," Chase promised him. "And that is not for awhile yet."

"I don't believe you."

"Then I will just have to prove it to you."

"There is no good reason for you to come back," House muttered. "I'm not ever going to walk down the isles of IKEA with you or learn to not drink the milk from the carton. I'm going to leave the toilet seat up. I've already used your toothbrush. I'm a drug addict with an attitude like a crocodile with a hangover… I'll never appreciate you or treat you the way you want or deserve."

"I don't care. I want you anyway," Chase told him firmly. "And really, do you see me as an IKEA kind of guy?"

"No," House admitted. Chase wasn't the type. And that's why he liked him. He could almost be himself with him. "This is torture. I just want to fuck you. The bed was a bad idea."

If Chase was honest with himself, he knew he probably would not be able to come or even get hard with the amount of pain he was in, but he just wanted to be close to him. "I want you too, I want you inside me," he whispered against his ear.

House had to pry himself away from Chase then. If he didn't, he would have a hard time knowing what was best for him. "When you're better," he decided reluctantly. "You demon incubus."

"But that could be weeks," Chase whined, rolling over to rest his head on House's shoulder.

House knew this, and wished it wasn't true, but he simply couldn't live with himself if he was responsible for Chase's pain. He rubbed his leg as it ached him. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me," he admitted softly, almost too low for him to hear.

"I'm a lot stronger than you think."

"I can tell you're in pain. And if you continue to refuse to take pills, then I'm not touching you," House insisted, the alcohol making his words slur slightly.

"You're not playing fair," Chase accused.

"Shhh," House shushed him with a smirk. "Go to sleep."

Chase huffed unhappily, but closed his eyes anyway. Ten minutes later, sleep took him under.

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Jail Bait (6/?)  
**Authors:** A Darker Heaven  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
**ord Count: **4,390  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

Two weeks passed. Chase settled into House's condo as well as anyone like Chase could. House made sure he was busy with physical therapy every day so that he would not get bored and destructive. Chase waited for him to come home from work every night and even tried to make eggs for him one morning. House had laughed at the burnt mess, coughed at the smoke, and patted him on the rump affectionately.

Chase still slept in his bed, and on some nights, it was very close to physical torture for House to keep his hands off of him. Especially when he went to bed one night wearing House's pajamas. But he continued to resist him for his own good, and perhaps for his own as well.

House reminded himself, and Chase, every night that this was temporary. Chase was something he could never have. He was untouchable even as he lay beside him in bed begging for him to reach out. To spare himself the rejection that would come later, House kept him at as much a distance as he could.

But his team and Wilson were beginning to suspect that something was up. However, he would not give them the satisfaction of admitting he was housing a fugitive, and that fugitive was the young man he purchased for himself in prison for twenty Vicodin.

Being in an overall better mood did not mean that he was going to have a better bedside manner, however. He still hated Clinic Duty.

"So, Mr. Jenkins. Sore throat? Ever heard of cough drops?" House grumbled as he limped heavily into the room, but stopped instantly when he looked up from a file to see a surprisingly familiar face. At first, House just stared, but slowly an amused smirk stretched across his lips. "Well, look who it is. Can't you have one of your fellow doctors tell you you're a hypochondriac?"

"I actually never went to medical school," the heavily accented English man answered. He was wearing a different disguise, but House never forgot his face. "We both know why I am here, Dr. House. Now where is he?"

"Where is who?" House asked casually. This man knew where he worked, when he worked, and possibly where he lived... but there was no way he was coming close to Chase. It was all too soon.

"Don't play dumb with me. Chase has gone off the grid and I know you had something to do with it," the man accused. "He doesn't belong to you. He never did. It is time he returned back to his duties."

"Just because I fucked him a few times in prison, you think I have him?" House challenged, knowing it might hit him where it hurts.

It did. The agent fisted his hands but was otherwise unmoved. "I think he went to you for whatever reason and I think that there are some men that could hurt you very badly if you do not tell me what I want to know, " the other man threatened in an alarmingly calm tone.

"I'm not so sure about that. You're in a hospital. There is security everywhere and I would not hesitate to beat you with my cane. And I don't have your blonde little slut," House shrugged innocently.

"Let be tell you something about that _little slut_," the agent broke his calm façade to growl. "He is a trained killer. One of the best. He _likes_ doing it. And sometime soon his masters will call him home, and he _will_ come home, but not before he tears apart your life. This is your only warning. Get away from him while you still can."

That was when the man abruptly sat up from the table and brushed past him to leave.

"You sure you want him back, then?" House asked before he could reach the door. In his own stubborn way, he needed to have the last say even if he might regret it. "Did he tear apart _your_ life? Because he made me eggs the other morning. Sunny side up." He turned around to make sure the agent saw the cockiness in his grin.

The other man stopped instantly and slowly turned around. "Do you really think you can keep him satisfied? What makes you think he will stay faithful to you when we both know you can't keep up with him? Chase is not human, Dr. House. And he cannot leave us. He _will_ come back to us."

So this was about jealousy, House smirked with amusement. This was _personal_. Chase had hurt this man before. "You know, he mentioned you once. According to him, you were just convenient. And a _Brit_. And just between you and me, I had him coming in seconds."

The other man's jaw twitched. "Yeah, and I'm sure you couldn't get it up for round two."

"Actually, I couldn't get it up after round three," House shot back at him quickly. "Lucky for me he's got daddy issues. And a whole lot of other issues. I think he liked me quite a bit."

House could tell that this very dangerous man was on the edge of violence, but he only smiled. "He's dangerous. Even more dangerous than I am. We will come for him, and like the good little dog that he is, he will follow. You will never see him again. You will forget about him and forget about me. Or we will kill you."

House watched him leave. His leg ached tremendously once he was gone.

_Shit_. It wasn't as if he were hiding Chase in an underground bunker. He was sitting on his couch. Right now. He was an easy target. A sitting duck. But House knew that some things were best hidden in plain sight.

He took an odd way home that night, careful to avoid followers. When he walked through the door, he didn't see Chase. Immediately, he panicked. "Honey, I'm home," he called out in a sing-song voice heavy with sarcasm.

"In here!" Chase yelled from the bathroom, and House heaved a secret sigh of relief.

House, never one for respecting anyone's privacy, opened the door and stared down at Chase soaking in his tub. "How did you get in the tub?" the doctor asked, though he suspected that he had been moving around quite well for a while.

Chase was never going to admit how hard it had been to get where he was now. He was healing, but the therapy always left him sore and frustrated. "I managed... and I knew you would be back soon to help me up."

"Ha! I'm not helping you up. I'm a cripple, too. And this is my tub. I didn't say you could use it," House teased.

"I needed a bath and I did not want that awful woman to see me naked. I didn't think you would mind, me being naked that is," Chase smirked.

House just continued to stare at the younger man as he lay naked in the tub. The soapy water prevented him from seeing the whole picture and cut him off at the waist. "It would be even better if there was room in there for me," he shrugged.

Chase smiled. "True, you need an apartment with a bigger tub... or a hot tub."

House nudged him with his cane before he dropped it on the floor and stripped himself of his shirt. "Or you could move your sweet Aussie ass over and not hog all my hot water," he proposed.

Chase grinned and scooted forward carefully so House could sit behind him.

"You know... I hear a bath is the best physical therapy. You can do a lot you normally couldn't just from having some weight off your body..." House suggested as he dropped his shirt to the floor and began to unbutton his jeans that had suddenly become very tight. His hardening cock pushed impatiently against the zipper as he released it. Careful of his leg, he slipped out of his jeans and boxer briefs and stood before Chase naked only for as long as he needed before he slipped into the warm, soothing water. He moaned as he settled behind Chase, his legs caging him in.

Chase leaned back against the older man's chest. After a few moments of silence, he admitted, "I like this. I didn't think it was ever something I wanted until now."

House immediately drew back at that. What did he mean by that? The domestic life was definitely not what House wanted. It wasn't what he wanted for _Chase_. "Oh, please, you act like we're married," he criticized. "We're not." In fact, he didn't even know what they were.

"Of course not," Chase answered quickly. "I just meant having a home."

"So this is your home now?" House asked. There was no emotion in his voice.

"It's the closest thing I've ever had to one," Chase shot back a little defensively. "Forget I said anything."

"Fine, I will," House agreed hastily. He thought of what happened earlier that morning. "You really think it's safe for you to be here?"

"You're not in any danger," Chase dismissed.

House rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about you, you idiot," he admitted, and his hands sank under the water to run up the younger man's thighs.

"_Ohhhh_," Chase practically moaned as House's hands ran up his legs and he automatically parted them to offer more skin for him to explore. It was because of this fascinating response that House finally gave in and continued to touch him. Chase was absolutely _starved_ for it. "I don't really have a safe place."

Though his hands were soft and seductive as they moved to his fleshy inner thighs, House's tone was serious as he said, "Some places have to be safer than others. And you are easy to find here."

"I have some places that are safer than others but they are away from you," Chase whispered as he squirmed against House in hope that his hand would slip just a bit higher.

House wasn't satisfied with that. "Don't be a moron and jeopardize your life for me," he muttered. "I just don't want to come home to find you gone and not know if you're dead or if this was really all just a game," he admitted. His hands continued their caress under the water as they traveled up and down his parted thighs, running over his groin just for the briefest of moments before they landed on his abdomen.

"Tease," Chase huffed. "I'm here now… doesn't that prove it's not a game? I could have just left already. I could have found somewhere else to hole up… or I could have gone back to them. They would have healed me faster."

"Well, maybe you should. Having a spa day in my tub isn't worth you getting hurt," House muttered. He sounded defensive and cold as if admitting all of this made him feel weak.

"Yes you are," Chase told him sincerely, and before House could argue any more, he turned just enough to kiss him.

House sighed into the kiss, offering a bit of tongue as his hands slid up his torso. Chase wasn't listening. "People are looking for you. They're following me back and forth to work," he blurted out quickly when he abruptly broke the kiss.

Chase froze. "How do you know that?" he asked suspiciously after a brief moment of surprise and shock and what House suspected was also fear. "What do they look like?"

House shrugged. "Does that matter?" he asked. "Just thought you should get out of your fantasy House Wives of New Jersey world and realize the truth."

Chase sighed and looked down at the soapy water gently rocking around them. It was another moment before he spoke again. "I would make a horrible house wife, I can't cook," he smiled, trying to lighten the mood and make House forget it. He settled back against the older man and kissed his neck.

House's hands finally slipped up to grasp Chase's cock. "As long as you're good in bed, I don't care if you order pizza every night."

Chase let out a sharp breath as House's fingers found where he needed them the most. "Well, since you refuse to touch me, I guess you will never know the full extent of my talents."

"I'm touching you now," House pointed out, giving his hardening cock a slow, steady stroke. He wanted to forget just as much as he did. "In case you haven't noticed."

Chase moaned and tried to push into House's despite the pain it caused him. "You couldn't have done this when we were in a nice comfy bed?"

"It's better here. Take it easy," House soothed. His voice was thick with lust as he grabbed Chase's hips to position him onto his lap, his own erection pressing against his back as he continued to stroke him firmly.

"I've been taking it easy and it's driving me crazy," Chase whined.

"Shhh," House hushed him as he began to stroke faster, but still not fast enough. Chase felt good in his hand, hot and heavy and needy. "Feel good?"

"You know it does, you smug bastard," Chase clenched his teeth.

"Mmm. I just like to hear you say it," House teased. His hand gave him a few more hard strokes before his hand disappeared further down in between Chase's spread cheeks. He circled his entrance before penetrating him easily with one finger. "This is really what I want," he grinned.

Chase moaned and turned his head to nuzzle House's. "What I really want is for that finger to be your cock," he whispered crudely.

House arched his finger to find that sweet spot inside of Chase that hopefully wouldn't have him squirming enough to hurt himself. "Can you handle it?" he asked directly into his ear. When Chase put it _that way_, he could not resist.

"Yes, I need it. Let me turn around," Chase begged.

House reluctantly removed his finger and allowed the younger man to move at his own pace and get into the best position. "You poor thing," House pretended to pity him. "

It took some pained maneuvering, but Chase finally turned around and positioned himself neatly in House's lap. "You wouldn't have any lube handy?" he asked a little impatiently.

House sat up straighter to reach the cabinet with one long arm. He rummaged through it until he grabbed a half empty bottle of lube. "I tend to jerk off in the shower a lot," he explained to Chase. "It's waterproof." He twisted off the cap and smothered his fingers.

Chase stroked House's cock roughly as he kissed up his lover's neck and nibbled his earlobe. "Even more so since I've been staying here?"

"This bottle was full before you snuck into my apartment and refused to leave," House answered just as his fingers sank beneath the water and probed his entrance without any further foreplay. "Mmmm," he moaned approvingly at Chase's tightness.

"Fuck," Chase cursed as he forced House's fingers further into him. "Did you think about me or one of your little sluts?"

"You _are _one of my little sluts," House teased, not wanting to admit that he thought obsessively about every single inch of Chase as he took himself in hand and rubbed himself raw. "You will tell me if you're hurting," he demanded.

"Yeah, sure," Chase lied through his teeth. "Get inside me."

House felt his cock twitch just at the roughness of that demand and slicked up his palm to stroke himself under the water. House didn't care anymore if he was taking advantage. He was only human. And with all Chase's pretty begging and the hormones that practically radiated off of him, he would have broken down eventually.

House shifted his own body so that his cock pressed against his entrance, and holding Chase still, he began to sink up inside of him. "_Oh, fuck_," he exhaled when his cock was suddenly swallowed by that impossibly tight, wet heat. It was almost unbearable, the impossibly suffocating pleasure.

Chase moaned as he seated himself fully onto House's cock and buried his face in his neck to catch his breath. Once he felt he could move, he attempted to lift himself to ride House, but the sharp pain in his stomach prevented him from going far. He tried again with the same results. "I may have over estimated my abilities," he admitted.

"It's okay," House tried to say, though he was breathless and had to use every inch of his willpower not to rut up into him. Patience was never one of his virtues. "We don't have to move. I can bring you off with my hand," he whispered, and to demonstrate, his hand grasped his hard cock and began to stroke again.

Chase whimpered. "That's so hot... but what about you?"

House breathed heavily against Chase, his hand tightening around him. He moaned when he felt the younger man's muscles clamp down around him. "Don't worry about me. I'll probably be coming inside you anyway," he forced the words out, and he knew it might even be true.

Chase moaned at the thought. "God, I don't want to come too soon."

House forced a smile that ended up being much more of a grimace. "For you, that is quite a goal," he teased. "Still feel good?" he asked breathlessly as if his own lust wasn't raging inside of him knowing that he was balls deep and couldn't move.

"I only seem to have that problem with you," Chase admitted, biting his own lip hard. "Yes, it's perfect, but I want to ride you."

House hoped it stayed that way. He wanted to stay the only person to have those magical orgasmic powers over him. It was during moments like this that it was impossible for House to deny Chase's want for him. "Another time. Right now, this is enough," he panted.

Chase kissed House as he felt his orgasm rip through him far too quickly. His body clenching down on House's cock and his nails dug painfully into his shoulders as he cried out and came undone.

To House, the sudden and almost painful tightness around his cock was unexpected. He continued to clumsily stroke Chase through his climax, his other hand going rigidly still along with his body. "Fuck!" he hissed.

"Best... handjob... ever," Chase moaned.

House winced when he was squeezed a little tighter. "_I have to slip out. Too tight_," was all he managed to gasp.

"No, no, no, no," Chase gripped him tightly as if to hold him inside. "Come in me, I want you to."

The need to move was too much. House was so close already, so close he was past the point of any rational thought. The animal instinct inside of him was fighting to take control. "I have to move, then," he exhaled.

"It's fine… I just can't lift myself up," Chase encouraged.

House took that as permission, and without any further hesitation, he grasped Chase's slim hips and began to thrust up into him. "This okay?" he breathed against his lips.

"Yes," Chase encouraged. Even though it hurt, it felt better to have House finally lose control. A few moments later, his hands gripped Chase's hips hard and cried out loudly as he shot up inside of him.

Chase kissed him as he felt House slowly calm. "Why did you wait so long for that?"

House was confused by the question. "I told you. You would have ripped your stitches."

"You are full of it. You could have had me days ago. Do you know how torturous it is to sleep beside you and not fuck you?" Chase accused.

House didn't know why he waited. Maybe it was because he was afraid of getting close to him. But somehow, with someone threatening to take him away, he suddenly didn't want to let go. "You would wake me up with sex?" he teased and changed the subject.

"Every morning."

House moaned at the thought. "I might hold that against you. You know, blowjobs help my leg in the morning," he suggested. "Up, up," he patted his ass, hoping he would lift himself up off his cock.

Chase made a soft whining noise of protest but lifted himself up using House's shoulders to brace him. "You know, I didn't think about how we would ever get out of the tub."

House grunted when the tightness was suddenly gone. "I can help you to the bed."

House moaned and drew Chase's mouth down to his. "How do you feel?" He wondered if he was sore. "Satisfied?"

"I feel thoroughly fucked," Chase told him with a lazy smile.

"I didn't even thoroughly fuck you," House laughed. "You should get used to being cripple… because even when you're healed, you're gonna have trouble walking," he added cockily.

"Ha ha," Chase rolled his eyes. "When I am better you will have a hard time keeping up with me."

House knew Chase was teasing, but there was undeniable truth to it that caused the proud man to feel a tinge of self consciousness. "I know," he told him, his tone void of emotion.

"I didn't mean it like that," Chase said hastily.

"Yes, you did."

"I think you can keep up, you've done splendidly so far," Chase tried to make up for it.

House shrugged. "It's not my cock. It's my leg."

"Then there is no problem," Chase whispered soothingly. "I'd rather have your cock than your leg."

House smirked at that and decided to just let it go. He didn't want to expose himself even more. He frowned when he watched his lover frown.

"Did something happen today?" Chase asked worriedly. They both knew what he meant.

"Maybe," House alluded with a shrug. "What if something did?"

Chase was suddenly sharp and focused and grasped House's chin to make the older man look at him. "Did someone hurt you?"

"Fuck no," House scoffed defensively and shoved him away. "Just annoyed me. But he knows me and knows where I live, so any second now, he could burst into my condo. And you're going to go with him."

"Of course I'm not going with him. But I might kill him for coming to you," Chase's eyes flashed with anger.

House smirked and ran his hands up and down Chase's naked, wet back. "Is it wrong that I find that really sexy?"

"Probably. But we both know there is something wrong with you." Chase laughed.

House smirked. They had that in common. "Mmm. If you only knew all the dirty things I want to do to you," he told him, proving his point.

"Well then, we should get to bed so you can show me," Chase practically purred.

"Mmmm," House responded with a moan and patted Chase's rump again before he half carried him up and out of the tub. "No point in getting dressed. Although I do really enjoy ripping off your clothes."

Once in the bed, their skin still damp and warm, he lowered himself on top of Chase and kissed him deeply. Chase moaned against him, but this time it was from the ache in his body. "I don't think I can go another round," he confessed when they broke apart for air.

House smiled down at him. "Who's the old man now?" he teased gently, but quickly shifted his weight off of Chase to lie on his back beside him. "You owe me some morning sex, then."

Chase snuggled up beside him. "Of course."

House pretended to scoff at the snuggling, but a moment later, he slipped an arm around his shoulders and allowed his hands to run through Chase's hair. "This guy will find you, you know. And he might not give you a choice," he brought it up again reluctantly.

"I can handle him. Don't worry about it," Chase brushed it off quickly.

House continued to subconsciously run his fingers through Chase's hair. "You should go back."

"Stop saying that. For the first time, I don't want to."

House knew it was a mistake. Neither of them had any room in their lives for one another. "You have that option?" he asked knowingly.

"Well, I am working on this one option that involves lots of sex with a handsome doctor," he teased.

House snickered at that. "And is that handsome doctor going to pay all your bills and food, hmm?"

"I suppose if the sex is good enough he will," Chase giggled lightheartedly through his heavy heart. "I have plenty of money saved up in an account that cannot be traced."

House rolled his eyes and tried again to be serious. "You can't be my house wife," he told him. "Although the idea is pretty appealing for now... it won't last."

Chase's hands clenched. "Your not going to let me stay here after I get better, are you?"

House was thankful for the darkness around them then. "I will. But you may not want to."

Chase rolled his eyes even if his lover could not see it. "Then, like I said, I will have to prove it to you."

House sighed and continued running his hands through his hair. "You know, you could come work for me," he suggested. "Finish your medical degree, become my favorite student..." He was only half joking.

Chase sighed and wished that could be. In another universe, perhaps. "I know more about killing people than I do healing them... I can't be around… normal people for that long. I get... _twitchy_," he tried to explain the unexplainable. On a mission he was always an excellent actor, but that was only because he knew eventually the mission would end along with the part he was playing. He didn't really know how to be himself. But he wanted to learn.

"Take up knitting," House shrugged, leaning over to kiss his lips. "Do you get twitchy with me?"

"No," Chase surprised himself with such a sure answer. "If I was twitchy, you would know it."

House closed his eyes then. A few minutes passed before he spoke again. "You don't make me feel twitchy, either," the doctor confessed.

"Hmmm," Chase moaned sleepily. "'Night, House."

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Jail Bait (7/?)  
**Authors:** **adarkerheaven**  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
**ord Count: **4,081  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

House slowly woke that morning with Chase still snoozing softly beside him. He glanced over at his sleeping lover and smirked when he remembered what he had promised the night before. Pretending to still be deeply asleep, the doctor attempted to nudge him awake and frowned when all Chase did in response was groan and roll his lithe body towards him to lay his head on the older man's chest.

Frustrated, House growled loud enough to wake him. Chase's weight was pleasant on his chest and he smelled of soap and sex. His red lips were deliciously slack with sleep and his blonde hair was tussled in every which way. House grew hard just looking at him.

Chase sighed and opened his eyes only briefly to glare at his lover. "What?" he demanded sleepily, his accent thickened.

House grumbled something incoherent and kept his eyes closed. "You were snoring," he lied with a smirk.

"I do not snore," Chase protested, sounding offended.

"It's cute," House teased.

Chase gave a frustrated moan of his own and began to lazily kiss up House's neck until he found the older man's lips. "I believe I promised you another go."

House pretended not to be interested. "Mmmm. I'm trying to sleep."

"This is not asleep," Chase whispered as his hand found House's morning erection.

"I got that while asleep," House disagreed, though his breath hitched when he felt Chase's hand circle him. "Mmmm," he moaned.

"Were you dreaming of me?" Chase whispered huskily into House's ear.

"Mmmm… I was dreaming of Penelope Cruz."

House felt Chase's lips spread into a smile against his skin. "Trying to make me jealous? You won't like me when I'm jealous, I guarantee you that," the younger man told him as his grip tightened on House's cock possessively.

"_Ah!_" House shouted when Chase squeezed him. "I think I do," he provoked.

"_Hmmm_," Chase hummed, kissing a love mark on House's throat so it would be obvious to everyone what he had been up to. "Do you want me to get you off with my hand… or would you like something else?"

House moaned again deep in his throat when he felt Chase leave his mark on him. "Whatever you want," he managed to say, because he was in no position now to make demands.

"I want you inside of me. Fucking me into the mattress," Chase accented voice slurred with arousal.

House growled loudly as he held himself back from throwing Chase onto his back right then and there and rutting into him. "You're not ready for that," he breathed.

"Do you want me to beg?" Chase asked as he purposely loosened his grip on House to tease him. "I will beg for you."

House tried to thrust up into Chase's loose grip, desperate for that perfect friction. "Yes," he smirked. "Convince me."

"You kinky bastard," Chase mumbled, but then his tone changed completely. "_Please, please, Dr. House... I want your huge cock inside me. It's all I think about._"

House laughed through his heavy breathing and tried to thrust up into Chase's fist again. "You have to do just a little better than that."

"I have never had to work so hard for a fuck in my life!" Chase whined. His grip around House's cock tightened and he finally stroked him firmly. "Please, House, I need you to fuck me. I'm _gagging_ for it."

House finally reached his breaking point then, and grabbing Chase's slim hips, he pushed him onto his back and covered his body with his own. "You're not allowed to fuck anyone else, even if they're easier than me," he demanded possessively, landing a solid kiss on Chase's lips and shoving his legs apart to ease in between them.

"You will just have to convince me not to," Chase grinned victoriously as he lifted one of his long legs to grip House's hips.

House growled and thrust his hard cock against Chase's. "You won't like me when I'm possessive," he turned his own words back around on him.

"Oh, I think I will," Chase purred.

House moaned and bit down hard on Chase's neck before soothing it with tongue and lips until he knew a sore dark bruise would form. He blindly reached out one long arm to rummage through the drawer beside his bed and withdrew a bottle of lube. Kissing Chase messily, he impatiently opened the bottle and lathered his fingers until they were dripping and thrust them roughly into him.

"You will tell me if it's too much?" House's voice was thick and raspy when he broke the kiss and felt Chase clench down on his fingers.

The needy desperation and frustration in the moan Chase emitted then made House's cock twitch. "I can take it. Stop being so careful and fuck me already."

"You know I can't say no to you," House admitted sincerely against his ear as his three lubed fingers began to impatiently finger fuck him open.

Chase thrashed on the bed. "I don't want your fingers," he panted, reaching down to stroke his own cock. He was very rapidly losing the ability to form sentences.

House slipped his wet fingers out of him, feeling Chase clench down as he withdrew. "What do you want then?" he teased, though he didn't think his lover could handle a second more.

"I hate you," Chase hissed, but without any real anger in his tone. "You better fuck me or I will come like this," he threatened as his stroked himself off.

The doctor grabbed Chase's hands and trapped them above his head. "You're not allowed to come until I say so," he demanded as shoved his thighs apart with his free hand. Without any warning, he positioned his cock over his entrance and shoved himself halfway inside just as Chase clenched impossibly tight around the intrusion and he instantly froze.

Chase sucked in a sharp breath. "You can't… you can't tell me what to do," he provoked his lover further.

In retaliation, House held onto his thigh and shoved himself all the way inside of Chase's protesting body until the head of his cock reached the hilt of him. He opened his mouth to cry out as the hot tightness overwhelmed him. "We'll see about that," he growled as he began to thrust into him, not giving him a chance to adjust.

"_Oh, god_," Chase moaned and his hands clenched in House's hold against his punishing pace. "_Fuuuuck_."

House began pounding into him harder and the room echoed loudly with the sound of the bed groaning underneath them and skin slapping against skin, all while House watched Chase's expression carefully. "So fucking tight," he panted.

Chase jerked his hands out of House's loosened grip so he could claw his nails down his back. "You're just… just big," he managed to say.

House loved how easily Chase could wiggle himself free. He was strong, stronger than he was, and that made it all the more thrilling to be fucking him on his back. "Big enough?" he groaned in his ear as he angled his hips to thrust deeper.

"Oh… _god, yes... right there_... don't you dare stop!" Chase cried as House pounded into him at just the right angle.

House bent over Chase so their chests aligned and they breathed the same heated air. He could feel Chase stretched out like a rubber band ready to snap. "Do you want to come, baby?"

"That's a… _horrible pet name_," Chase tried to tease him even as his eyes rolled back in his head as House's dick found his prostate.

House would have to remember to ask him why later, but right now, all he could think about was this delicious build up, tethering on the edge of the cliff. "What would you have me call you then, sweetheart?" he teased back breathlessly.

"Only if you mean it... _fuck I'm going to come_…" Chase quickly warned his lover.

House held back his own orgasm, wanting Chase to come first. "Fuck, yes... come for me," he demanded, his hand finally reaching down to jerk Chase off in time with his rough thrusts.

Chase came hard the second House touched his neglected cock. His body clamped down on his as if he was trying to suck the other man into him and he spurted his come messily onto his chest.

House watched intently as Chase came undone, and when his muscles clamped down on him so hard he couldn't move, he clenched his teeth and spilled out inside of him, his hand still stroking Chase.

"Fuck!" House exhaled.

Chase squirmed and shakily pushed House's hand away from his over sensitized cock as he tried desperately to catch his breath.

House reluctantly withdrew his hand even when he was tempted to keep teasing until he screamed. "You hurting?" he asked when he could finally speak and collapsed on top of him.

"Only in a good way... don't pull out yet," Chase answered weakly. He ran his fingers up and down House's back, soothing the bloody scratches he had made earlier.

House had no intention of pulling out yet. His back felt like it had been clawed by a big cat and he murmured happily when Chase soothed it. "You poor thing, did I hurt you badly?" Chase teased.

"Mmmm," was House's first reply. "Yes. You scratched the hell out of me."

"You buggered me into the mattress. I think we are even," Chase told him. "And how is it that I always end up bottoming for you?"

House felt himself softening inside of him, but still made no effort to move away. "Get used to it. I'm never bottoming for you," he answered seriously.

"That's because you are a huge control freak," Chase pointed out. But just before House could open his mouth to call the kettle black, he added, "Probably due to the fact that you were an army brat."

House raised an eyebrow at that. "And how do you know that?" he challenged, lifting his head to look down at him. "You stalked me, didn't you? I'm flattered."

"I wouldn't call it stalking, precisely. I just like to know what kind of person I'm dealing with. I had someone look you up when you suddenly became my new cell mate."

House leaned on his elbow and gave Chase a look of amusement. "Does it bother you?" he asked, knowing the younger man would know what he meant.

"It probably would under different circumstances," Chase replied honestly, reaching out to trace House's face with his fingers. "But it's different with you."

House frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Would Chase eventually resent him for it and leave him? Will it never be enough?

"Don't get defensive. I just meant that I know your reasons for not wanting to bottom are not because you think you are too good for it or that I am any lesser of a man because I like it," Chase tried to explain. "I've been with people who think it's some sort of sign of power."

House gently slid out of Chase with a grimace. He lay on his back beside him and rubbed his aching leg. "I '_top you_' because it feels natural to me," he muttered.

"I told you not to pull out," Chase whined softly with a pout, hoping to change the subject since it seemed to make House so uncomfortable.

"My leg was hurting," House admitted as he closed his eyes, though that wasn't the whole story. He didn't understand why they had to push the boundaries of whatever delicate thing they had between them or why he had to bring up something like that after mind blowing, perfect sex.

Chase, thinking that was a lie, huffed in annoyance and turned his back to the other man. "Fine," he said, not wanting to deal with House mentally shutting down over something that was so unimportant.

House rolled his eyes at that. He winced as he moved onto his side and wrapped his arm around his lover's waist. He pressed his sticky chest against his back. "I'm serious. My leg aches. It always does after a fuck like that," he insisted.

Chase made himself take a deep, calming breath. He laced his fingers with House's. "Is there any position that's better?" he asked hesitantly.

This time, House didn't try to shrug off the intimate gesture when Chase took his hand. "Not really," he admitted.

Chase turned in House's arms so they were nose to nose. He kissed House gently on the lips. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" House asked. His free hand traveled soothingly up and down Chase's tired thigh.

"For your pain."

House continued to run his hands over Chase's body. "You didn't do this to me," he told him simply. "It's worth it, to a certain extent. The sex and the pain afterwards. If I don't do it because of the pain, the pain wins."

Chase practically purred under House's hands. "I'm worth the pain, huh?"

"Don't let it go to your head," House growled, his hand traveling farther down to squeeze his round ass. One finger slipped in between his cheeks to feel his own come leaking thickly out of him.

Chase smiled and closed his eyes as House's finger probed him. "You perv. You like that I'm stuffed full of your come, don't you?"

House smirked and continued to smear the come over Chase's skin. He slid his finger inside again, feeling him still open and slick around him. "You're a perv for _liking _being stuffed with my come," he teased.

"That is true," Chase admitted, lifting his leg to rest on House's hip so his lover had better access to him. "But I don't like it, I love it."

Not able to resist, House moaned softly and allowed a second finger to join the first, fingering him slowly but deeply. "What else do you like? Not being called baby?"

"It reminds me of prison," Chase told him. "But I like you. I like everything you do to me. I'd let you do anything."

House wanted to ask more questions, but not when he was two fingers deep inside of him. He sank them in deeper and rubbed his prostate expertly. "You're not my bitch. I don't want you to agree to whatever I want," he whispered.

Chase moaned as his spent cock started to take interest in the proceedings. "It's not like that. I never said it to anyone else."

"You better not have," House murmured possessively as his fingers fucked him harder, molesting his overly sensitive prostate. "You may not be my bitch, but you're still _mine_."

Chase's cock seemed to like the sound of that as much as his heart did. "Yours, huh?" he tried to play it off, but it was hard when House seemed determined to get another orgasm out of him. "Fuck!" he yelled.

House smirked with satisfaction as Chase began to lose it again, just from his fingers. He felt his come slicking him up and making an erotic, rhythmic wet noise. "Too much?"

"Not if you're trying to rip another orgasm out of me... _god_... can you fuck me again?" Chase asked.

House felt his own spent cock rise into full hardness again just at the thought. "I can always fuck you again," he told him, feeling the pain in his leg dull as his mind focused away from it. He gently coaxed Chase onto his back, slipped his fingers out of him, and positioned his erection against his entrance. "Like this?" he asked.

"Yes, please," Chase said politely. When he was finally so hard that it was starting to hurt, the door bell rang and they both simultaneously jumped from the noise.

House froze instantly and Chase groaned. "Don't get it," he demanded his lover.

"I'm not," House growled angrily, thrusting halfway inside of Chase with a groan just to prove it.

Chase matched House's groan with one of his own. Who ever was at the door didn't seem to be giving up, but at least the bell and the knocking had stopped. "I'm all wet for you." Chase teased against his ear.

Those words went straight to House's cock, and when the ringing finally stopped, he surged his way back into Chase and cried out. He couldn't pound him into the mattress again, but he was looking forward to a lazier, slower fuck. "So good," he breathed.

Chase's body sucked House in and his mouth had just opened to breathe a moan when something else suddenly caught his attention and he froze. Years of training had taught Chase to use his senses, but all five seem to have gone right out the window. He didn't hear the footsteps until they stopped right outside the bedroom door.

"House..." Chase tried to warn him before the door opened and both men stopped to look up at the older couple standing in the doorway gaping at them.

House's mother gave a high pitched squeak and bolted quickly when she realized what she had walked in on, but House's father who had been behind her took a little longer to look away.

The doctor didn't realize they had an audience until Chase clenched abruptly around him and gasped. That was when he looked over to find the last two people he expected to see in his bedroom that morning.

To say that House simply panicked would be an complete understatement. He thought for sure that if his mother didn't faint first, he would. _This_ _could not be happening_ ran through his desperate mind over and over. What were they doing here, and why hadn't they knocked before bursting into his bedroom at the exact moment he was fucking his _gay lover_ _who he met in prison?_

"_Jesus!_" House screamed. He quickly jumped off of Chase and onto his back, his arousal forgotten and dick limp with horror. Luckily, the sheets covered up the fine details of exactly what they were doing and how.

House's father slammed the door shut, but not before Chase saw the expression of shock and disgust on his face. There was a brief moment of silence after the door shut before Chase spoke. "So those were… _your parents?_" he deduced awkwardly. "Great first impression, huh?"

House, still breathing hard, clenched his fists in anger. Of all the moments to decide to visit him for the first time in years uninvited and unannounced, they had to pick the exact morning he was balls deep inside his _male_ prison cell mate. "They're not supposed to be here. They're _never _supposed to be here. _Fuck!_ Why are they here?!" he screamed loud enough for them to hear and grabbed fistfuls of his own hair when the true gravity of the situation sank in.

Despite his aching leg, House grabbed a t-shirt and jeans off the floor and shuffled them both on quickly. "I'm going to go get rid of them," he told Chase with calm determination. "You stay here," he demanded, pointing a finger at him as if he were an undisciplined puppy.

"You are not going to be able to talk your way out of this one," Chase said with a smirk. He hated to admit it, but this was all sort of humorous to him. It infuriated House even more.

"Shut up. And put some clothes on," House ordered as he smoothed his hair into some semblance of order and stomped out of the room.

"Ever heard of knocking?" He sneered at his parents who were standing in the kitchen arguing and pacing angrily. He tried not to show it, but the shock and fear of confronting them now was paralyzing.

"I'm so sorry, Greg. We were in town and wanted to see you but you weren't picking up your phone and when we knocked we thought we heard something..." Blythe House spoke apologetically. House stared at her. She was always such a meek woman. She was useless without a man to control her life. "We are so sorry to disturb you and your girlfriend…"

That was when House realized that she had obviously not had a good look at who House had underneath him. Either that or she was up to her nose in denial. House held back a laugh at the thought of Chase listening. He waited for his father to correct her, but the other man remained stone cold and silent even though House could still sense the pretentious, judging waves radiating off of him like a bad smell.

"I know she's probably embarrassed… but we would love to meet her."

"I'm not so sure that you do. He's not a girl," House told them bluntly. He leaned heavily on his cane and looked to his father.

Blythe blinked and her lipstick covered mouth dropped. After 'raising' her only son, she didn't think there was anything left he could do to shock her. "Oh, well..." she stuttered, looking up at her husband.

John House remained stubbornly silent as he continued to glare at his son.

House tried not to appear unaffected by his father's obvious disapproval and his mother's sadness. "I broke up with Cuddy," he explained, not knowing what else to say. "I wanted to try something different, you know, so I wouldn't be reminded of her. Call it a midlife crisis. You know all about those, don't you, Dad? Still want to meet him?" he asked sarcastically

"Of- of course we do," Blythe answered, but this time, she didn't even pretend to sound sincere.

That was when John House finally spoke. "Sure, let's meet the man that turned my son queer."

House gritted his teeth, but somehow, he remained in control of himself. Perhaps he did it for his mother's sake. "I'm not gay. _Just not closed minded_," he told him accusingly.

John opened his mouth to say more, but stopped when Blythe interrupted by placing an hand on her husband's arm. "We understand. Why don't you see if your friend would like to meet us?"

House was silent for a moment before he spoke again. Why was his mother insisting? Was it some kind of sick curiosity? "Why are you here?" he asked suddenly.

"We were just in the area and we thought we would stop by and say hello. We called but you didn't pick up," Blythe repeated. "We… knew you were recently released from prison. We heard about all the happened. We just wanted to make sure you were… alright."

House rolled his eyes at that. "Of course I'm _alright_." They didn't once come visit him in prison, thank god. Frankly, he was surprised to find now that both of them were still alive. "Excuse me for one second," he grumbled as he abruptly turned around to slip back into the bedroom.

House shut the door behind him and watched as Chase dressed. "How did the little family reunion go?" Chase teased, thinking that his lover had already gotten rid of them. He pulled one of the older man's t-shirt's over his head.

House sighed. "They're still here. My mother wants to meet you," he growled, keeping his voice down.

"What?!" Chase hissed. "I thought you were going to get rid of them!"

"Shhh!" House hissed back. "I _can't_ get rid of them. Just say hello and hopefully they will leave," he demanded.

"I'm not going out there!" Chase insisted, though this time, his voice was low enough for them not to hear.

House glared at him. "Fine. Let me do this all alone, then, you asshole," he shot back at him, because somehow, blaming Chase felt right in that moment.

"House, I'm still half hard and leaking your come out of my ass and I can _barely stand_. Do you really want me meeting them like this?" Chase asked crassly.

The older man threw up his hands. "Chase, you're a goddamn secret agent. Or _secret assassin,_ whatever. You're trained to bullshit your way through any situation, but you can't do this? How the hell do you think I feel?!"

"This is _different!_ I'm not the kind of person someone brings home to their parents. I was never trained for this," Chase argued.

House was just about to tell him to forget it, to shove his useless, selfish ass into the shower while he told his parents he wasn't feeling good. But Chase zipped past him before he knew he had changed his mind.

"Fine. Let's do this."

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**Title:** Jail Bait (8/?)  
**Authors:** A Darker Heaven  
**Fandom:** House, M.D.  
**Pairing:** House/Chase  
**Rating:** Overall NC-17.  
**Warnings:** Slash, graphic sex, a bit of violence.  
**Spoilers:** All seasons, just to be safe.  
**Word Count: **6,180  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine. The characters of House md belong to David Shore and Fox Television.  
**Summary:** House is incarcerated for driving his car through Cuddy's dining room. While getting used to prison life, he notices some inconsistencies with one of the other inmates. Chase seems to be the perfect 'prison bitch' to gang leader Mendelson, but House knows that there is more to him than it seems and becomes determined to figure him out.  
**A/N:** This story was originally written as an RPG, which explains any shifty POV's. This chapter is not beta read.

Later that evening, House and Chase sat stiffly at a small table in a fancy restaurant downtown with House's parents. It was Chase's first night officially leaving the condo since he first escaped from the hospital, and not having any clothes of his own, he had borrowed some from House.

As if the situation wasn't awkward enough.

House's mother had been lovely to Chase as he turned up the charm as best he could, but John House remained silently stoic and refused to look him in the eyes. It wasn't until the waiter brought out the wine that he finally spoke.

"Is he even old enough to drink?" John asked his son snidely.

House huffed and dropped his fork down on his plate with a loud crash that seemed to startle the entire restaurant. He would have been happy enough going to a pub or ordering pizza, but his parents had to chose to the most stuck up, expensive restaurant in this area of Jersey. And yet, House tried. He tried for his mother. After all, any woman who can share his father's cold, angry bed every night and still remain sane deserves at least a nice dinner.

But House did have his limitations. "Of course he's old enough to drink. He's old enough to get shot in the line of duty and that's why he's staying with me. To recover," he lied angrily, not giving Chase a chance to speak for himself.

"So he's a police officer, then?" John asked, looking Chase over disbelievingly.

Chase knew he looked non-threatening enough. It was one of the reasons he was recruited, after all. "Doctor, actually. There was an incident at the hospital," he told them, hoping the lie would be enough.

"Oh, do you work with Greg?" Blythe asked cheerfully, and Chase could tell by her tone that she was genuinely interested. He smiled at her. "In the same hospital, yes. I work in intensive care."

House rolled his eyes, not caring that it was obvious to everyone else at the table. The conversation in front of him was making him sick. Chase should have stuck to the cop story. His father knew he was lying and probably already had it in his mind that he was a male escort.

"Mom. Dad. How long are you staying?" House quickly changed the subject with mock kindness that he knew wouldn't fool them. Out of the corner of his eye, he observed Chase casually sipping on his wine while carefully scanning the restaurant. Looking for potential threats, he assumed.

House tried to imagine what life must be like for him. _Real_ life. He wondered if Chase ever felt more human than he did right here and now having an awkward dinner with his parents. The world must feel like a jungle to Chase where at any moment a predator could pounce down from a tree and devour him.

House disregarded it as little more than a habit before he saw Chase suddenly pause, place his glass gently down on the table, and push his chair back to carefully stand. House attempted to follow his gaze to one of the waiters. "Excuse me a moment," he said politely as if he was just going to make a quick trip to the rest room. "I'll be right back," he told House.

House said nothing and glared at his lover's back as he left, resentful that he had abandoned him alone with his parents. _He_ had gotten him into this mess. "So, how long are you staying?" he asked again.

"Just a couple of days, dear," Blythe told her son, but she was interrupted when John leaned across the table. "There is no way that kid is over twenty-one. Where did you pick him up at?" he demanded.

House blinked. "He is in his mid-twenties. If you don't believe me, ask for his license when he gets back," he barked at his father.

"You are still old enough to be his father," John hissed.

House glared at his hypocritical father. "Yeah, well, mom was scandalously young when you married her," he shot back at him. His mother tisked at them both but looked away and said nothing.

***

Meanwhile, in the empty men's room, Chase stared vacantly at his reflection. He looked awful. Under the harsh florescent light, he could see how pale and tired he really looked. He almost didn't recognize himself. _This is my best disguise yet,_ he thought privately. He had even managed to fool himself this time.

However, Chase had not rushed off to the restroom just to look at his reflection and powder his nose. The pain medication made him tired, sure, but it didn't make him hallucinate. He could have sworn he saw another agent in the restaurant. He could sense him. He was being watched, even now, and the only thing he could do was become a sitting duck and wait for him to show himself. He had already dissembled the video camera and made sure they were alone.

Finally, a waiter dressed in a form fitting tuxedo walked through the door and stopped behind Chase who tried to look busy while washing his hands. Chase did not look up at him. "I thought my cover was good. But yours? A family man? What the hell are you doing?" the agent hissed in a strong Italian accent.

Chase sighed deeply. It figured that as soon as he came out of the safe little nest of House's condo that one of the agencies pretty boys would show up and talk for The Man. He knew that he already knew the truth. They had been watching him ever since he went missing. "I'm taking a much needed vacation," Chase told the other agent. "I needed time to recover from my last mission and you can tell whoever asks that that is what I'm doing. I completed the mission, I don't owe anyone anything. I got _stabbed_. I almost died-"

"Boys like you don't take vacations," the man in the tuxedo interrupted him angrily. "You knew this before you agreed to the job. Boys like you just don't decide to quit and become a _normal human being_. You _disappear_," he explained very carefully. "He isn't going to be very happy when he finds out where you are and what you're doing. I don't think this is a vacation, Robert. I don't think you mean to come back. I don't think you are undercover."

It was true, and Chase was too tired to deny it. He didn't care if He knew. And quite frankly, he wasn't as scared as he knew he probably should be. Before the other agent could even flinch, Chase suddenly had him by the throat and slammed him up against the wall so hard he breathed in the plaster that crumbled around him. The other man fought against him, startled with how fast he had moved. The predator was not used to becoming the prey.

"Idiots like you should recognize just who they are dealing with before they try to threaten me," Chase spoke calmly, cutting off the man's air supply and enjoying the purple shade he was turning. It helped him deal with his own pain in his abdomen and the frustration that overwhelmed him then.

"Gregory, perhaps you should check on your boyfriend. He's been in there quite a while." Blythe cut in, hoping to stop the argument that was becoming increasingly loud in volume and embarrassing her.

House gritted his teeth but spoke softer to his mother. "He's not my... boyfriend," he reminded her. "And he's _old enough_ to take care of himself." But still, any excuse to get away from them was a good excuse at that time. House grabbed his cane and got up from the table. "I'll be back," he told them as if it didn't matter either way.

He felt himself grow nervous as he walked towards the men's room, not knowing if he was going to find him there or not. Had Chase gone away? Had he left, just like that? He walked through the door hesitantly just as the man his lover had pinned against the wall was starting to pass out.

"_What the hell?!_" he demanded, and House's voice was the only thing that cooled off the murderous rage that had clouded Chase's mind.

He abruptly allowed the other man to fall to the floor and backed away. "Just a misunderstanding," he told House calmly, not expecting him to believe it.

The waiter stumbled to stand, coughed until his vision cleared, and began to shout incoherently in Italian to both men before running off and slamming the door behind him.

House was shell shocked, but not because of the man that had just run out of the bathroom. It was the look he had seen in Chase's eyes, the strength he displayed over the larger man... it wasn't the man he knew. It was as if he had switched off into someone else. House kept his distance and glared at him. "So you're strangling innocent waiters now? I didn't think the soup was _that_ bad," he growled sarcastically. He was sure it was what Chase _wanted_ him to believe. If only he were that foolish. "I saw the way he looked at you. I knew he knew you."

Chase sighed in exhaustion. He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms defensively. "Well you're right, he did," he said with a shrug.

"What did he say to you?" House demanded, still not moving or taking his eyes off of Chase as he studied him.

"He tried to threaten me and I just let him know I wasn't easily threatened. My former employer sent him to spy on me."

House continued to watch him carefully. "Uh-huh. And were you gonna kill him?" he asked bluntly.

Chase was quiet for a second as if he were thinking about it. "I don't think you want me to answer that question." No matter what he told House, it wouldn't be what he wanted to hear.

House took one step closer, though there was still a great distance between them then. "What is it that you do? Or used to do? I deserve to know. Otherwise, well, this isn't gonna work," he demanded, hoping to scare the other man a little. "I haven't asked, Chase, because I thought it didn't matter to me. I thought I knew what you were. But now I'm not so sure, and you have to tell me. Right here, right now."

Chase clenched his jaw when he realized House was serious. "So I don't tell you now and you just leave me here? After everything?" he asked softly, trying to come off as non-threatening as he could.

House chose his next words carefully. "Yes. Or do I know too much already? Are you going to kill me, too?" he challenged.

"I would never hurt you," Chase told him quickly, though he knew that House might just do as he threatened and turn around and leave him no matter what he said. He had nothing to loose, after all. House had the upper hand here, now. He had all the power after just those few words. It was funny how fast the tables could turn for Chase. That was why he found himself finally telling House a little more of the truth. "I... the agency I work for..." he began, stumbling over his words, "They hired me because I'm good at... sometimes there are bad people with a lot of power and the agency I work for takes care of eliminating those people and making it look like an accident. "

House took a moment to consider that. He knew the younger man was telling the truth. "So you're a trained assassin. Is this a legitimate organization or is it illegal?" he asked, though there was no emotion to his voice and his body was still stiff and defensive. He already knew the answer but wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth.

"What does that matter?" Chase asked, running a shaky hand through his hair. "It's an secret organization that only people in power know about. We... it's... not under any one country."

"Yeah, I gathered that, Chase," House barked at him. "Do you ever kill innocent people?" he asked bluntly.

Chase opened his mouth before shutting it with a snap, surprised at House's question. "I am just given assignments. It wasn't my job to question them."

House was silent for another moment before he finally asked, "And what are you planning to do?"

"I want to stay with you," Chase said quickly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was the only thing he was sure of.

House shook his head in frustration. "And how are you planning on staying with me when you're just going to get yourself killed?" he asked impatiently. "Or get _me_ killed?"

"It's a job and I can quit it like any other job!"

House would have reached out and shake some common sense into him if he hadn't been so afraid of setting off some kind of switch in the boy. "That Italian waiter seemed to think differently. Everywhere you go you are going to have spies watching you. Or us. You have to disappear, don't you?"

"Disappearing would be the smartest thing to do," Chase admitted. "But I'm not going anywhere."

House sighed. "At least tell me your real name," he demanded.

"It's Robert Chase. I never lied about that."

House was confused then as to why Chase would use his real name in prison, but then he realized that he probably never did. He was most likely only known by the nicknames given to him by the other perverted inmates. "I, for one, don't want Big Brother following me around everywhere. I don't like the idea of it. I don't like them watching you, me, _or _my fucking parents."

"Then what do you want to do? Do you… want me to leave you alone?" Chase asked.

House was silent for a moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "But right now we need to get back to the table before my asshole parents come looking for us."

Damn. That did not sound good. "Right, of course, whatever you want."

House eyed Chase once more before he turned and walked out, knowing Chase would follow. House sat back down at the table with his parents and gave them an obviously fake smile. "So that was a great meal, right? I guess you both are pretty tired. What hotel are you staying at?" he asked, though it was obviously just trying to get rid of them.

"Well, actually, we were hoping we could stay in your spare bedroom since we were only planning on staying in New Jersey for the night," Blythe told her son. John had apparently changed their plans.

"Seriously?" House did not even try to pretend. The question was not directed towards his mother, however, who had always tried so hard to live in the shadow of her husband. He shot his father a look. "Dad doesn't want to stay," he told her, finishing his drink and pretending as though Chase wasn't there at all.

"Just for one night, dear," Blythe said firmly before John could speak up.

House watched as a different waiter approached the table and delivered the check. He glanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and tossed the book in his dad's direction. He knew he was just fanning the fire, but he always had when it came to John House. "Fine, mother," he agreed reluctantly.

House was miserable by the time they finally entered his apartment and he showed his parents their separate room to sleep. Still ignoring Chase, he walked to the fridge, popped open a beer, and downed a handful of Vicodin. Not yet ready for bed, he sat down on the couch and turned the television on.

Chase didn't like being ignored. Despite feeling like a needy puppy, he sat down right beside his lover on the couch. "I don't understand why you are upset. You had an inkling of what I did back at the prison," he told him.

House sighed with frustration when it became clear that he was not going to leave him alone. "I always knew what you did was sketchy. But I don't want to be followed anymore," he repeated.

"I don't want to leave." Chase said softly.

House did not take his eyes off the television as he flipped for something that would hold his attention. "Would they only stop following me if you left?" he asked.

"They aren't going to hurt you. They wouldn't risk hurting you."

"I don't care about that. It's the principal of the thing. I'm a private person," House barked at him. "And you didn't answer my question."

Chase hesitated only for a moment before he suddenly threw himself into House's lap. "Don't send me away," he begged, kissing up his lover's neck.

House tensed when suddenly Chase clung to him. He gently shoved him away until there was at least some space between them. He glanced behind the couch briefly to make sure they were still alone. "Stop it. You'll hurt yourself."

Chase wasn't going to give up. He leaned in as close as he could to kiss and suck on House's neck. "Take me to bed," he pleaded, wanting to erase all doubt in his lover's mind.

House tried to hold him away, keeping his injuries in mind. One of them had to. "You can take your own pretty ass to bed."

"Please, House, I need you," he pleaded, clenching at House's shirt.

It wasn't fair. House only wished one of them had the balls to leave the other. Then life could go back to normal… "Get the fuck off of me," he growled, finally shoving the other man off of him. Once he was free, he quickly sat up and walked to the bedroom.

Chase gave House a few minutes before he followed him, shutting and locking the door behind him. House continued to ignore him as he stripped off his shirt. "You should sleep on the couch," he told him another minute later, though his voice wasn't stern. He knew he wasn't going to listen to him.

"Why are you punishing me for this?" Chase finally asked him. "If you wanted me to leave you would tell me to, but you haven't, so you must want me to stay."

House did not answer him. "You must have some sort of plan," he asked again.

"Getting stabbed was definitely not in the plan. Everyone can't be as smart as you all the time," Chase said, shamelessly trying to butter up his lover.

House shook his head and clenched his fists in frustration. "You're not listening to me. What are you going to do when they come take you away?"

"I'll figure that out when the time comes," Chase told him as he slipped out of his jeans and into the bed. He wasn't going to let House push him away.

"That's not good enough, Chase. I need to know that I'm never going to come home to you missing and I need to know that I don't have to spend the rest of my life not knowing if you're dead or not," he growled.

"I can't promise that," Chase admitted. "But I can promise to be with you as long as I can."

House shook his head. "That's not good enough."

"What do you want me to do?" Chase threw up his hands. "If there was another way out I would do it but this is all we have."

House slumped his shoulders and he sat on the edge of the bed heavily. "I don't know what you want from me!" Chase finally cried, losing his patience.

Chase was gorgeous when he was crazed with anger and desperation and it distracted House. He wondered if his victims ever noticed before he killed them. Or was he more the sniper type? "I want you to shut the fuck up before my parents hear you!" he shouted right back at him. "You're the one that got me into this mess, anyway," he cursed, though he knew it wasn't fair.

"Fuck you! If you want me to shut up you will have to make me!" Chase shouted.

House just rolled his eyes. "You are such a child," he accused, but his voice was calm. He wasn't going to give Chase the fight he wanted.

Having nothing to say to that, Chase reached out and pulled House on top of him on the bed. Immediately, House shoved his body down and landed his lips hard on his, his hands rough as they slid up his body. He poured all of his frustration into the kiss, and when he finally broke it, his voice was hoarse. "You think you can just fix everything with sex?"

"Yes," Chase told him, because it had always worked in the past.

House pulled back to look down at him. "Well, after this time, it's not going to work," he warned him, though his eyes were already glazed over with lust and his chest rose and fell heavily. He did not make a convincing argument.

"So there will be a next time?" Chase asked, needing reassurance.

"Maybe. Depends on how good you are tonight," House challenged him. He didn't want to let go of Chase but he also didn't want his world to crumble when one day he vanished. But Chase was right. At least they had right here and now.

"You know I'm good to you," Chase purred as his hand slipped between them to cup and squeeze House's erection through his sweats.

"Mmmm," House moaned approvingly. He swiped his thumb over Chase's parted lips and into his wet mouth. "What are you planning on doing?"

"You want my mouth on you?" Chase asked in a low, seductive whisper. Judging by the way House always liked to touch his lips or stare at his mouth, Chase knew it was something the other man thought about a lot.

House stared at the way his lips were slightly parted and reddened and wet, as he demanded without hesitation, "Yes."

Chase had never cared for pleasing past lovers this way, especially when he was forced to do it in order to keep his cover. His hesitation showed briefly on his face before he got a hold of his emotions. "Lie back then and don't pull at my hair," he ordered, pushing House off of him pulling his pants down.

House propped his head up on the pillows and decided to let Chase do all the work. "And why the hell can't I pull your hair?" he asked, and if he were to be honest, he was slightly disappointed.

"Because I might be tempted to bite your dick off if you do," the younger man threatened as he pushed House's shirt up and placed a kiss beside his belly button.

House's cock was already straining impatiently against his cotton boxer briefs. "I think you'd miss my cock if you did," he pointed out. And just to prove his point, he took a handful of Chase's messy blonde hair and pulled gently.

Chase huffed unhappily against House's skin but allowed the hair pulling. This was about convincing House to keep him, after all, and he would do anything to convince him. Chase mouthed his cock through his briefs and heard the older man gasp.

House let his hand fall limp to his side, not wanting to push him too far. His cock was already leaking pre-cum and forming a small wet spot on the fabric. From this position, he could look down at Chase and watch him and his hips thrust up slightly in impatience.

Chase pulled back to work House's boxer briefs down. "I think you are right, I would miss your cock," he admitted, but before his lover could feel the boost to his ego, he swallowed House down far too expertly for someone who acted hesitant to do this act in the first place.

House opened his mouth to cry out, but only squeaked when he tried to stop himself and remembered his unwanted guests. He felt like he was a teenager again, getting blown in his bedroom by a pretty blonde and trying not to wake his parents. "Fuck," he breathed, and stopped his hands right before they could reach Chase's tempting hair again and instead gripped the bed sheets hard. Chase's mouth felt as beautiful and perfect as it looked and House watched his every move without shame through half lidded eyes.

Chase moaned around his lover's cock as one hand roughly cupped his balls. "God, Chase," House breathed his name like a prayer. In fact, it was the closest to one he may have ever whispered. He resisted the urge to pound up into the wet heat of his mouth, the rough swipe of his tongue, and the way his throat felt against the tip of his cock.

A few more minutes of slow torment later, Chase pulled back just enough to suck noisily at the tip of House's cock, tasting the bitterness of his pre-come on his tongue and knowing he was close. "Do you want to come down my throat or on my face?" he asked huskily.

House clenched his eyes shut tightly. He wanted to do it all. He wanted to ruin his pretty face in all the ways that he possibly could. "Your face," he panted, finally deciding.

Chase smirked as if he knew that would be House's answer. "All right," he said, taking House's hand and leading it to his own cock. "Come on me."

House gripped himself hard and decided then that if this was what Chase was like when he was clingy and desperate, he would keep him that way for as long as possible. "Fuck," he hissed as he began to stroke himself off, his cock pointed against his lover's parted, red lips that were still wet and swollen from sucking his cock. "Tell me you want it," he demanded.

"I want it. I want you to come all over my face," Chase pleaded sweetly as his hands ran up and down his lover's thighs anxiously. The thought of House leaving him made his blunt nails dig into his skin.

House bit his lip and jerked himself harder to the vision of Chase poised for a shower of his come. "_God... I'm there,_" he warned, and a moment later he came undone, his hot come spurting out onto Chase's face and coating his lips, his chin, his forehead. He continued to stroke himself through his orgasm until he had milked himself of the last drop and became limbless against the sweaty sheets.

Chase wiped his face on the bed sheet and wiggled his way up House's body to kiss him back to this world. House savored whatever view he had of Chase's face covered in his come before it was wiped away and kissed him back hard, tasting himself on his lips and in his mouth.

Chase eventually pulled away to lay his head on the other man's chest. "Was it good?" he asked a little hesitantly.

House couldn't believe that he was actually showing some insecurity after something like that. "Fuck, yes," he admitted easily. "Better than good."

"So I can stay, then?" Chase's asked hesitantly.

House sighed and rolled his eyes. He wished Chase would at least allow him to recover from his orgasm before asking that question again. "You won't stay. Somehow or another, you're going to leave," he told him without answering his question at all. "What I say doesn't matter and you know it."

Chase's arm around House's waist tightened automatically. "It matters to me," he confessed softly. House sighed and brought his arms behind his own head. He did not even bother tucking himself back into his pants or say anything at all.

Chase tried to not feel rejected by his silence but it was hard and his first instinct was to lash out. He forced himself to take a deep breath and sat up to look House in the eyes. "If there wasn't this problem with my job... would you want me to stay?"

House reached down to rub his leg which now began to ache. "How am I supposed to know that? If it weren't for your job, you wouldn't be here at all," he pointed out. It was the truth, after all.

"Yes, but you wouldn't want to be with me because I am a man, and either way you would see no future with us…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Robert! I don't care that you're a man!" House shouted, using his first name for the first time. How many times did they have to go over this? "I _don't_ care. I just don't like getting attached to things that I will lose, no matter what they are," he growled.

Chase sighed and flopped down beside House. "Alright. I'm sorry, okay? You didn't have to go all first name on me," he said, hoping to make his lover smile.

"Well, now that I know your first name, I'll use it as I please," House shot back at him, though there was a slight smirk playing on his lips. "I like how you look with a sticky face," he added cruelly.

"Yeah, well don't get used to it," Chase rolled his eyes as he pulled the covers over himself.

"You're not going to blow me again?" House teased. "Such a waste of a pretty mouth."

"I only did it because you were mad at me," Chase smiled, but scooted closer and kissed the back of House's neck to soften the blow. "Don't go to sleep. You still have one more round left for me…" he added, reaching around to fondle House's cock.

House didn't move or even open his eyes. "What if I'm tired?" he growled, though they both knew that House never refused sex. He only pretended to refuse sex to make Chase want him even more.

"No one is ever too tired for me," Chase laughed softly as he began to slowly stroke him.

House finally turned over onto his back to allow Chase stroke his sensitive cock back into hardness even when his hands continued to lay limp at his sides, not moving to touch Chase though they wanted to.

"Are you going to make me do all the work again?" Chase tried to tease.

"Depends on what you plan to do," House challenged, still not moving.

"I'm going to attempt to ride you, if my body allows it."

House stopped him. "No, you shouldn't."

"I want you inside of me, and if you're not going to participate, that's the only way," Chase determined stubbornly.

"I never said I wouldn't participate. You just assumed," House corrected, and just to prove his point, he lifted himself up and threw Chase onto his stomach underneath him.

Chase moaned and fell into position easily. His hands clenched at the sheets. "Was I wrong to assume?"

"No. But I'm going to have my way with you right now," House promised, kicking his lover's legs open and manhandling his hips into the air. He loved Chase in this position, but it seemed perfect now. This way was less intimate. This was dirtier. "And then I am finally going to sleep," he added grumpily as he brought his fingers around to his lover's lips. "Wet them," he commanded.

"So demanding," Chase provoked, but he sucked on House's fingers willingly. "The way you go on it's like asking you to fuck me is some sort of chore," he accused when his mouth was free again.

"I never said I didn't want to fuck you. The way you throw yourself at me makes it impossible," House growled in his ear before he drove his wet fingers inside of him with a punishing roughness.

Chase whimpered into the pillow and spread his legs even further. He would never admit to it, but he loved being fucked like this. He would also never admit to his older lover that he would never let anyone else even get close to getting him in this position.

House knew it without Chase even saying it. "You love being on your hands and knees for me," he mused, his breath hot against his ear as he stretched him roughly, colliding against his prostate with expert precision.

Chase moaned and admitted to nothing, but his body betrayed him as he tried to fuck himself further onto those fingers. House pulled them out and teased his wet cock up and down the cleft of Chase's ass, pausing to apply pressure to his entrance. But it wasn't enough. "You have to be quiet. You'll wake my parents."

Chase groaned and tried to push back. "Stop teasing and fuck me," he demanded loudly.

House punished him with a quick slap to his backside before he thrust into him, giving him what he wanted and for once, not holding back. With his balls pressed against his ass, he was as deep as possible inside of him when he stilled to breathe.

Chase couldn't quiet the scream that came with House thrusting deeply into him at just the right angle. "Shhhh," he heard his lover order. "Or I'll gag you." And he meant it.

Chase blushed at the thought and was glad his face was turned away from House. "You wouldn't dare."

House leaned over to kiss the nape of Chase's neck very gently and lovingly despite his threatening words. "I would. You would look very pretty all gagged up," he told him honestly, beginning a slow but rough pace thrusting into him. The tightness was overwhelming, this position taking him deeper and making them both feel dizzy.

"_Fuuck!_" Chase couldn't stop himself and buried his face in a nearby pillow to muffle his cries too late.

House slowed his thrusts to grab his discarded tie and wrap it around Chase's mouth before he could react. Once in place over his mouth, he began to thrust harder into him.

Chase was so embarrassingly close to the edge already that the makeshift gag barely registered as he felt his body start to clench down on House. The doctor leaned down again to ravish the nape of his neck as he began to pound into him harder despite his body tensing around him. "Coming already?" he teased.

Chase's whimpered reply was muffled by the gag. House had to stifle his own moan back as he thrust so hard into him that the sound of his skin slapping against his was deafening. "If you come now, I'm just gonna keep fucking you," he promised. Chase moaned and reached down to grip his own aching cock.

House felt Chase reaching his limit and held back his own. "Come for me," he demanded as he targeted his prostate and his lover screamed through the gag as he came hard.

House held back as Chase clenched down on him hard, but he did not stop moving even for a second. "Shhhhh," he reminded him. Chase only whimpered into the gag, his over sensitized body protesting.

House continued to pound into him until he was sure Chase was going to break or pass out or die from over-stimulation before he the older man decided to let himself go. With one particularly rough thrust, he leaned down and bit Chase hard on his neck before finally coming undone. A few more shallow, quick thrusts, and House collapsed on top of him with a grunt as his lover's ragged breath whooshed out of his lungs.

It wasn't until he had softened completely inside of him that House gingerly slipped out of his lover and rolled off of him to lay on his back beside him. Chase groaned and only then realized that he still had the gag in his mouth. He tugged House's tie off and threw it at his drowsy lover.

House chuckled and tossed it onto the ground. "Did I hurt you?" he asked without opening his eyes.

"No, of course not," Chase answered, still blissed-out from his orgasm. "It was amazing," he added as he leaned over to kiss House lazily.

House did not kiss back, though he allowed the attention. Despite the fact that he wanted to ravish his lover's mouth, he was determined to remain distant. After all, it may be the only way to keep Chase to him for as long as possible and lessen the blow when he did inevitably leave him.

"Still mad then," Chase whispered with a sigh.

House closed his eyes and did not react. "Just unsure," he corrected him.

"I think I can live with unsure."

House still didn't open his eyes as he reached blindly for the damp, scattered blankets and covered himself up.

"Yeah, well, I can't."


End file.
